Another Life
by Corinder
Summary: When 'Wendy', an overweight girl with self-esteem issues, is offered another chance somewhere else, or drown, she takes the 'other chance' and wakes up, no memories, dragged into an adventure that she was never supposed to be apart of. This isn't as simple as it seems... whoever said Middle Earth in the middle of a war was going to be fun?
1. Becoming Wendy

An undertoe tugged at my feet, dragging me under in an explosion of bubbles, and with it, I felt everything I'd been carrying vanish from my arms. Briefly, just for a precious second, I burst from the water to gasp for air, and then was dragged under again, surrounded by debris. Rocks, leaves, sticks, entire fucking branches, someone's bike slammed into my side and I grabbed it in an attempt to dislodge it. Oh, I realised, it was my bike. My brand new one. I tried to drag myself and it sideways but there was no way I could save both of us.

The rivers had flooded. All of them, in fact, all over Brisbane. And I'd, like a stupid fool, decided that the river didn't look so bad and I could manage to get myself and my christmas presents across it. Easy. I surfed, didn't I? Okay, so that was when I was a kid, but still... no problem! I'd ignored someone's shout and tried it.

The river had swept me right off my feet, right over the bridge's railings, and here I was. Where, I wasn't sure, but I was in some pretty fucking bad trouble right now.

The river surged and screamed in my head, and I felt something very large and heavy graze my side, hit my head hard, seeing my own startled bloody reflection in some kind of mirror just for a moment, surrounded by brown water, bubbles and a bloody cloud. It was a car and I swore I saw someone inside it, heard banging, but then it was gone as the river tugged us apart again.

Then, suddenly, we were slammed together, my shoulder slammed hard into the side of the car. I saw it clearly now, now I was pressed against the door by the pressure of the currents, and saw a child's white face staring back at me through the glass. Trapped in the car. The car was almost flooded.

For another moment I was above water, seeing the dark red of the car's roof beside me, seeing it dipping dangerously low, and I gasped in both water and air, the pain of it searing through my chest. I grasped the edge of the car, fingers white with the effort of hanging onto the slippery metal, seeing glimpses of trees, of other cars, cars that the river must have dragged into the waters. How stupid I had been... if a car couldn't handle it, how could I? I felt dazed, my shoulder throbbed and barely worked, and the world darkened a little as my mind offered unconsciousness to escape from the pain.

The banging below me snapped my conciousness back to something. Something important. Something that had worried me and upset me. I could barely think, blood streamed over one eye and blinded it, and my left arm couldn't hold onto the car- it just hung limply as my shoulder throbbed. It took some precious seconds, as the car dipped lower, before I remembered her. The child! How the hell had I forgotten her?

I tried to grasp it with my left arm, the handle, but I couldn't get my fingers to move properly, and debris in the floodwaters kept crashing into my arm and body, jolting everything that hurt. She was still there, pressed against the window, like she was trying to go right through it. I tried to get the handle with my good arm, dropping into the water, clutching onto it for dear life. But the waters just pressed against the car, as it went forward, pressing the doors shut. Electric windows? Wind up? I didn't know and I doubted she could hear me. If it was a new car it was probably electric.

The front of the car was now completely underwater and I saw, with another jolt of shock, something there. A woman slumped forward, limp, her entire body underwater over the wheel.

Half blinded by blood, I tried again, trying to wedge my body between the car and the car door as I tried to open it, the pressure of the floodwaters cutting the edge of the door into me. An arm and hand grasped for me, trying to hold on, with much more strength than I'd have expected of someone that size. I tugged, pushed, tugged, and felt the child come free of the car as water surged in through the partly open door. Suddenly, we were free, and the car was gone. I didn't know where, if it had been swept away, if we'd been swept away, only that we were tumbling again in water filled with dangerous debris- myself and this child, her arms around my neck, legs around my waist, head buried in my neck. I couldn't find the car for her mother, if that was her mother, I couldn't even be sure the car was still floating.

All I could do was try and keep near the surface, so we could breathe, as I felt sharp pains, slashes, things hitting me as they went past. My lungs were almost always empty of oxygen and the world was again starting to darken, even with the child's life, and …

We got dragged into a stormwater pipe. I saw it briefly, this round grey pipe, before the blackness enclosed us. Before water enclosed us.

With one final gasp, I grasped onto the child, and prayed.

"Are you ready to die, in order to be reborn?"

I swore I heard them, voices, words echoing around. But I didn't know who. Something else hit us and then, suddenly, I couldn't fight it. My mind slipped away into the darkness.

Words filled my head, words that I didn't understand, and with them came the sense of being touched. Being held. A warm body, scented with a mild smell that might have been body odour without being the offensive kind. The splash of water.

Are you ready to die in order to be reborn?

The voice echoed again. I felt it. I felt the edge of life and death, as I felt the arms carrying me out of a river, felt the chasm and depth of death yawning there. Death was somewhere else. How? I didn't know. But death had no careful arms, had no soft voice, it only had darkness and cold water. It waited ready for me if I tipped towards it. But there was also life. I felt that too, felt it come with those arms and with an incredible amount of pain and uncertinity. There, in this choice of life, I was lowered onto something soft and damp, a motion that hurt me so much, that I heard myself gasp in shock. Somehow though I couldn't really …

Somehow, neither death in that dark water or life with the owner of those arms, I felt connected to neither, aware of bodily sensations that came with both, aware of sounds I made or tried to make, but … I hovered between.

Are you ready to die in order to be reborn?

A third time I was asked. And this time I knew it was the last time I would be asked. The last chance I would be offered before the choice was made for me.

Death. Life. I had a choice, whatever this 'reborn' thing was all about, and ...

"Y-es..." I heard my own voice answer, much clearer than I could have imagined, much louder. The answer was so easy to come up with, like I'd already decided, I wasn't ready for whatever lay beyond the darkness. Death vanished. Something surged through me, a shock of energy I couldn't understand, and...

Suddenly I was only aware of myself, lying on wet grass, pain from head to feet, eyes unable to see. Everything hurt. I felt paralysed. There were voices, feet, coughing somewhere else.

A hand brushed hair out of my face and I flinched.

"M'lady? Hen-ee-akh neen?"

The word seemed bizzare. Wrong. I couldn't open my eyes to glare at whoever it was. I felt confused, hurt, stunned, blinded, my chest was heavy, and I couldn't move.

"I..." My voice cracked. Okay. I couldn't talk either.

"Nen, hurry." There was a command to that, some guy ordering someone around, though the next statement really made no sense whatsoever. He spoke something else I didn't catch but I did hear the sound of a horse come closer.

I thought I smelt horses. I could smell it now and hear it, something nearby, but I couldn't bare to open my eyes. I smelt smoke too. Fire. Fish? Grass tickled my back, grass and something gritty, sand maybe. Dirt? I didn't care. God, did I hurt, I didn't care what it was. Why was I concentrating on dirt? I tried to move, only to feel a shock of pain run through my shoulder.

"Don't move. Wait." That man said softly, soothing, and I felt something lift off my chest. The weight gone, my lungs could expand a little more, and I felt a little better. "Take the human child, get her warm beside the fire."

Was I blind? Everytime I tried to open my eyes, I couldn't, and I felt panic rising. Something soft and damp dribbled over my face and I flinched.

"Just water to clean your face. Your eyes are held shut by blood."

Oh, that made sense. I supposed. How did that happen? Blood was usually meant to be inside the body, not holding eyes shut. I heard a flutter of words as the cloth, I had to guess that was what it was, moved over my eyes carefully. Another language. Pretty, sure, but it made no sense to me. They talked for a while and slowly, I found myself able to open my eyes, finding them meeting the concerned eyes of a grown man with long hair.

Somehow familiar. I wasn't sure how. But he made me want to giggle. I wanted to tweak his ears. Why the hell did I want to tweak his ears? I tried to sit up again, only to find his hand press on my good shoulder, a frown in his eyes as he stared down at me.

"Don't move. Stay still. Your injuries will need binding."

"Wa-" I coughed, a horse ugly thing compared to this pretty man, and something rose up out of my stomach. Water exploded everywhere, all over the place, up from my stomach and my lungs. All over me and the pretty man. Well, he'd told me to not move. I hadn't moved. I'd vomited.

Somehow he didn't seem the least bit fazed by the fact that someone had just vomited on him, he stayed put, and offered me something that looked kind of bladderish.

"Drink and move slowly." He offered, glanced over his shoulder towards someone, and spoke in that language again.

I drank. I was so thirsty. Once I'd drunk as much as I could, I shut my eyes, warmth flooding through my body. Whatever the drink was, it'd been good, the pain faded from my limbs. The sunshine eased me back into sleep.

This didn't last long. I woke, to find another pretty man bent over me, his teeth gritted as he tugged at something. Something wrapped around my arm and my shoulder. I flinched, shoving at him, making the man raise his eyes as if I was a naughty child. Weird. He didn't even bother hiding his dislike, this ugly look on such a nice looking face, as if he'd been asked to scrape poop off someone's shoe. I tried to push him back.

"I can do it." I muttered. "Whatever it is you're doing."

"He's tying your arm to your chest, to keep it still." The first pretty man, the blonde one, informed me. "Where are you from? Is it near?"

I had no effing clue. "I don't know."

"Your voice..." There it was again, that surprise flashing across his face, but it was gone pretty fast. "Not a tone we're used to. What's your name?"

Again, nothing. My mind drew a blank. I blinked in confusion as I tried to think, hissing in pain as the second pretty guy yanked hard on my arm, tying it firmly against my chest. "I don't- OW- know."

"Head injuries have been known to hide memories." The man, the one I'd woken up to, glanced away. "She, too, has no memory."

She? I stared in the direction he'd been looking. Some kid. I flinched again, as the man pressed against my shoulder with a long piece of fabric, trying to slide back.

"My apologies, M-lady." He didn't look that sorry. He didn't look that interested to begin with. The man glanced back at the younger man. More of the foreign language was exchanged between them.

Finally, the first man seemed to win, because he turned to me. "Horseback is not kind to that kind of injury. We have no time to stay with you, no village is close by, and so you'll have to come with us. The healers will repair this damage."

Another heated discussion, the two of them speaking about me all over again. It sounded heated. Were they arguing? I had the distinct feeling it was about me. And not in a positive way.

I stared around as they did, ignoring their dismissive way of talking about me as if I wasn't there, stared around for... I wasn't sure. A phone or something. Horses grazed nearby, more or less free of saddles, although one had several large packs of something on the back. I didn't see a car. I saw a bike though. My bike? They'd more or less attached it to the side of the poor horse, who grazed, as if this wasn't an unusual thing at all.

Besides this, there was nothing, no house. No road. A trail of sorts, kind of, as if people wandered along here from time to time. And the air was so clean, I didn't smell anything at all besides the musk of horses. The smell of wet grass. Maybe something oniony. Onion grass? A herb I was kneeling on?

I sat there, numbly, staring at the two of them. Pointy ears. Blonde hair. Bows. It seemed to be familiar, somehow, but I couldn't figure it out.

"Moving seems like a bad idea. Why not call an ambulance?" I muttered. I remembered that much, at least, that there were such thing as ambulances and that apparently injured people shouldn't be moved. I just received blank stares. "You know. So the injuries don't get worse."

They exchanged looks and the more friendly of the two said softly, "Another is needed nestad. Neither of us are a healer, M'lady, nor know of any better than that can be found in Ri-"

The second cut him off, muttering something, and this time I was certain I'd heard the word 'human' in amongst it. It had sounded kind of insulting too. Great. The girl clearly was apart of this argument, for both sides, because they kept glancing at her. At least she didn't get the 'shit on shoe' expression. He almost looked tender. Almost. So did asparagus till you tried to eat it.

"Who are you two?" And what was with their ears? Were they trying to look like elves? Problems with being human? I was too sore to care.

"Legolas Greenleaf." The first man informed me. He opened his mouth to continue, only for the other man to inturrupt, as if he couldn't help himself.

"Lord Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland Realm. Prince, son of Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm."

"Okay, okay, I didn't need his entire bloody family tree." I muttered. Was that rude? Maybe. But then I paused. Legolas. Legolas. Why did this seem so familiar?

Somehow, this name put me into hysterics, which cut off both of them and baffled the two of them completely. I couldn't help it. I laughed my head off, however much it hurt, laughed till I couldn't take the pain of it anymore, and wheezed. Why was that name so hilarious? I had no clue. It just was.

This broke out a fresh argument between this Legolas and his ...friend. Legolas pointed at me, at something on the ground, and then at the girl.

"You have no memories?" He suddenly asked, glancing at me.

"None." Except that his name wanted to make me laugh all over again. It seemed totally unreal. I couldn't help it, I asked again, "You sure that's your name?"

"Very." He was deadly serious. Stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Then he turned to his friend and they resumed the argument. It wasn't aggressive, exactly, but Legolas seemed determined. Finally his friend seemed to let up and Legolas turned to stare at me. "You and this child will come with us to Lord Elrond."

A fresh wave of hysterics washed over me, startling them and waking the kid, who had been curled up beside the fire. I felt like I'd lost my mind somehow. Seriously. What was it about these names that made me want to laugh in their faces? I felt bad, especially when I saw the other guy frown, and tried to stop it. "So... sorry. Not sure why I'm laughing." I couldn't understand it. Part of me didn't want to get them angry. Part of me didn't want to laugh- it fucking hurt! And part of me just found it plain hilarious. I must have been going mad.

Maybe he wondered the same thing, because he said slowly, thoughtfully, "Your injuries may be affecting your mind. There are healers under Lord Elrond who may restore memory." Legolas offered. He turned to grasp a horse's bridle, leaping up on it like some kind of male ballerina, and glanced at his friend. A sharp order, in that language, made the other man sigh and come over to me.

"You ride that horse." He pointed at one of the grazing horses. I stared at it. It lifted its head, clear blue eyes meeting mine, and stared at me. "With the child."

Could I ride a horse? I didn't remember and I wasn't sure if I could stay awake long enough to stay upright. Before I could bring this important point up, I was helped to my feet, and felt my legs sway unsteadily. My head spun at the sudden movement and I found myself leaning on the unimpressed pretty man.

"Can you stand?" He asked.

I tried, found my legs more or less agreed with the idea, and made my way slowly to the horse. Stared at it. It stared at me. Huh. So. I had to get up there.

Hands hoisted me up, the unnamed man's slender frame hiding one hell of a lot of strength, and I found myself hoisted up. No choice but to try and get leg over back and sit there. The child was put in front of me. She looked like she was in pretty bad condition too, barely awake, blood plastered across her. Somehow this did kick me a little, make me a little more determined to try, because however weird this was turning out, she clearly needed a lot of help.

"My horse will carry you carefully." Legolas reassured me. "We are not three leagues from Lord Elrond's home. Sit, and let her follow us."

Oh, okay. That shouldn't be too hard. How far was three leagues? I shut my eyes as a wave of tiredness washed over me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was somewhere else, still perched on the horse as we rode. Legolas rode ahead, easily, like he was born there. I had to guess the horse behind me had the other guy. Forest leaned in, leaned across us, and I reached up with my good arm to touch the leaves gently.

It was while I was doing this that I caught sight of something. A river. Buildings. Statues.

This incredible place. Beautiful. I gaped at it, just before the trees covered the view again, staring down.

"Rivendell?" The word kind of drifted up into my head. I blinked, staring down. I knew that. This was Rivendell. How the hell had I known that? Maybe he'd said it. I wasn't sure. I passed out again, slumping forward, aware vaguely that there was someone nearby. I held on with whatever I could. The kid needed help. The kid needed help. Catching a glimpse of her, with her hair red with blood, kind of helped.

Sometimes I did open my eyes, slowly, finding myself still perched on the horse. The forest never really changed, not really, but we were moving pretty fast. It was so strange- I would shut my eyes, open them, and I'd feel as if we'd moved some distance but I couldn't figure out if it had been two metres or two hundred. A slope caught me, almost, caught me so unawares that I almost tipped forward off the horse only to feel something hoist me back.

"M'lady, we ride ahead. You will be well cared for. I will call on you when I have given my respect to Lord Elrond." Legolas spoke beside me, his hand on my shoulder, holding me upright. Grey eyes met mine, then across to someone beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar man with those same ears riding just a few inches beside me. Legolas spoke across me, "She speaks the common tongue."

"Does she?" Somehow this was not good news, apparently, because this other elf didn't seem pleased.

Okay, I muttered, though I wasn't sure if this was within my head or out loud. Did that mean he'd left me alone? But when I'd opened my eyes, I found myself on a different horse, leaning against someone, as the horse carefully moved along a road that cut down a slope. Weird. When had that happened?

"Stay still." A new voice warned softly. "The river will not be so kind."

I stayed still. I shut my eyes.

Dreams dogged me, mixed with the fluttering of my eyes and the sight of road and trees, dreams of things. Flooded rivers. Water. Drowning. Voices in my head, screams, crying. I wasn't sure what it was- it was a nightmare, and everytime I opened my eyes, it became too shadowy to really remember beyond the drowning But then, when I dreamed, this world with the pretty man seemed more dream than reality, and I couldn't figure out which was real. The flood or the pretty man in the pretty clean forest. It seemed like neither was real. Both were real.

My head hurt.

When I managed to really focus on the world, this time, we were crossing a river and a chilly wind had cut across my legs. It was now I'd only noticed that my pants and top were pretty badly shredded, and something was over my shoulders. A cloak. Huh. Fancy broach thing holding it there. I fingered it with my good hand, a little silver fern curled around something, till my strength couldn't hold my arm up. I shut my eyes again.

When I opened them, I was no longer on horseback, but instead in a bed.

Then I was in a bed. This confused me. Where had the river gone? The bridge?

I blinked up at the ceiling, staring at a carving of a woman bent over me, her face sad. Felt sheets. A face stared at me. Another face. Legolas, the pretty elf. Another face. A woman. Or was it a man? There were so many feminine longed haired people, I kept seeing them between sleep, that I was starting to get confused.

And then, suddenly, I woke. This time I was not disorientated. I felt strangely refreshed, awake, and safe.

It was cold. The sheets, beyond where my body was, were freezing. I stretched slowly, feeling strangely numb all over, yet somehow I felt okay. Wide awake. Sun cut across my bed, a warm sun, and a little man was staring in at me through the window, his jaw open. Cute, sort of, but no mistaking him as anything but an adult man. A man who couldn't be more than four feet tall.

We stared at each other for a very long time.

"Who are you?" He demanded, an accent mixing with clear curiosity, as his eyes stared from me to the side of my head. "What are you doing here?"

"Waking up." I sat up slowly, grasping the sheets just in time, staring under them. Where had my clothing gone? I was sure I'd had some. I was wearing some kind of dress instead. "Who are you."

The little man opened his mouth to answer, only to be cut off by someone's shout, someone not very far away.

"Pippin, where are you?"

"There's a human woman! Isn't it?" The little man, clearly Pippin, called back. He wandered in through the door and stared at me. "You injured? Are you a human?"

No, I realised, as I wriggled my shoulder. "Not anymore. Um. I think I was, but not anymore. What else would I be?" Besides a four foot man, apparently, but I was pretty sure I was safe with that.

Another little man ran in, staring at me with the same open curiosity, but he seemed distracted. "Come on, Frodo and Sam have vanished. So has Bilbo. They're up to something. That's not a human. Look. She's got ears. Um. Sorry, M'lady, but-" This second one was midway through a bow when he realised what Pippin was up to, because Pippin had just crawled onto the bed and stood there.

To my amazement at his lack of boundries and to the horror of his little friend, he reached out to push my hair back, and stared.

"There is! But it's not like the others. Are you half?"

"I don't know what you mean." I muttered. "I just woke up on a river bank. What do you mean, half?"

"You know. Half elf. I heard there were some." Pippin informed me. He flopped down on the bed, tugging something out of his pocket, adding, "It's okay, Merry. She's friendly."

"She's in bed, Pippin."

"She's dressed." Pippin retorted. He glanced at me. "And there's been visitors. I saw them. She was sick. You feeling better now?"

I glanced down again at the clothing. I was dressed, and not in what I'd been wearing on the horse, instead in some other thing. Looked pretty feminine. Silky. Dress that had some pretty amaing fabric. It went green one direction and blue in another. But … I had the distinct feeling I wasn't a fan of dresses.

"I feel okay now. No pants."

"Girls don't wear pants. If you feel better, you'll probably be hungry." Pippin informed me. He tugged something out of his pocket. Cheese? Bread? He slammed them together, tore a bit off, and held it out. "We can get more in the kitchen. The Elves don't ever go in. I don't think they eat."

"Pippin, come on." Merry glanced at me. My lack of anger at this visit must have been relaxing him a little. "We were doing something, remember?"

"Oh yeah." Pippin blinked and grinned. He stuffed half the remainder of his sandwich in his mouth, no small feat for such a small head, and chewed on it energetically. Within seconds it was gone.  
"Frodo and Sam." He slid to the side of the bed, jumping to his feet, and his curious gaze kept shifting over me as I started to slide for the edge of the bed too. Suddenly he grinned. "You feeling like an adventure?"

"Pippin, we don't even know who she is." Merry muttered. He was slightly less trusting of me, I suspected, though nothing like that weird pretty man with Legolas. "Who are you?"

"I don't know." The memory of Legolas and his friend flashed through my head. I stared at them both. Slowly I stood up, testing my legs, finding each of them working fine. My head didn't hurt. "I hit my head. I don't know."

"She must be the woman who saved Daisy, Merry." Pippin rolled his eyes and wandered over. "You saved that little girl, didn't you? You want to come for an adventure? We can get food from the kitchen on the way."

My stomach rumbled and I flushed. Okay. I was a bit hungry, really, and I felt kind of restless. Besides- Pippin's grin was infectious. I felt my own face mirror it, which relaxed Merry more, his own face relaxing. I'd been in bed for ages, hadn't I? No one could blame me for wanting to have a walk.

Besides, someone had been nice enough to dress me up. I glanced around for something else though, feeling strange without pants, and saw my torn ones lying over a chair. Cleaned? Fantastic.

"Sure, why the hell not. Give me thirty seconds-" At their blank looks, I tried, "I mean, give me a moment, and I'll meet you outside."

They were gone pretty fast for such tiny legs. I yanked the pants on, torn or not, and immediately felt a little less naked. Dresses might be nice but pants kind of felt good. I went outside, bare feet crunching on autumn leaves, and stared around. Now. Little men... little men...

Merry and Pippin were leaning against the wall, Pippin again eating something else, and he brightened. "Great! Follow us."

It turned out that sneaking around an Elvish city, I had to assume that was after we passed the fifth Elf, wasn't so easy. Not with such a long dress. I took three steps before I decided I had to go back and change again, which kind of frustrated them. It took me some minutes though.

One door led to a row of amazing dresses, lined up, one after the other. I only stared at them for a moment before moving on, finding a door to another room, and an open drawer caught my attention. Those didn't look like dresses.

For a moment I fumbled around in drawers before I found something, some kind of tights which sort of fit, and a shirt which hung loosely. Men's clothing? It smelt like men's clothing, really, but who cared? Once I had a jacket thing and had my hair tied back, I felt kind of better. Did I dress like this normally? No idea- no memory surfaced to answer me.

They stared at me as I came out.

"You a man?" Merry blinked.

"A pretty man?" Pippin's eyes openly trailed down to my chest where, although the jacket hid it better, I still clearly had feminine attributes. "No, she's a woman."

"Wouldn't know it with that clothing." Merry said bluntly.

I didn't really care though. I did the buttons up on the jacket and shrugged. "Doesn't bother me what you see me as."

"Up to you." Merry turned. "Let's go!"

We snuck around between gardens, buildings, statues, which still wasn't easy. Elves. Good hearing. I thought that was the case, anyway, though I wasn't sure what had given me that idea. It was amazing though. I kept finding myself getting distracted by the incredible beauty of the place. The sheer amount of detail, care, and love that went into every path, into every bench, into the positioning of each tree and statue...

I wasn't the only one. Both of the little men kept gawking around too, jaws open, and our progress wasn't that fast. It was probably only Pippin's growling stomach that really kept them going forward and me with them. I suspected I'd get lost without them. I had a bad thought suddenly- what if they'd get lost too? This place was beautiful but a bit confusing.

"How long have you two been here?"

"A week." Pippin replied as he glanced back. I kept thinking of him as a child but he wasn't. He had lines in his face and signs of aging in his skin. But he had that childish thing in his eyes, this excitement, this curiosity that made him look younger. He might have been thirty in reality. I didn't know. He was gazing through a tree now, literally through a fork that was low enough for him to stare through, watching a group of Elven women dance and play without any interest or care in us.

"So, Frodo?" I stared at them as well. They seemed to like dresses. I had to admit- the dresses did look fun to twirl in. Pants were pretty boring with that. "Does he always hang around you two normally?" I could almost picture it. A third member to their little gang.

"No, he doesn't. But Frodo vanished in his best clothing. Merry saw him." Pippin informed me in a soft whisper. "Sam noticed too. Then Sam wandered off. We lost him."

"Who are Frodo and Sam?" I muttered. They blinked at me.

"Oh, yeah. You don't know. They're hobbits like us, from the Shire. Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, his gardener." Merry let me know. He'd relaxed now and glanced over the arm of a female statue, gazing around slowly.

"Shire? Hobbits?" Gardener? I blinked at them. Somehow these words made me crave cheese but other than that, neither word really made much sense to me.

Pippin opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted. Elves wandered past and Merry covered his mouth. Armed Elves.

When they were some distance away along the path, Merry grinned. He had to be around thirty too, I realised, but he was like Pippin- everytime they smiled, or grinned, or got that look in their eye, they looked like teenagers. Naughty teenagers about to do something that would get them in a lot of trouble... and they loved it.

I suddenly wondered what the hell I'd gotten myself into by following these two. Oh boy. But their smiles were infectious and I couldn't help but smile a fraction too.

"We must be close." Merry decided, as he saw another pair of guards wander past, standing a little straighter.

"This way." Pippin decided, lowering down, and grabbing at me again.

We crept slowly along, trying to keep out of sight when we could, and trying to walk innocently when we couldn't get away wth it. This involved walking, smiling nicely, and Pippin nodding innocently at elves. Of course they noticed, of course they stared, but then they didn't stop us either.

"There's a lot of strangers around right now." Merry informed me softly after the third group of Elves let us wander past. "Kitchen."

He vanished into a doorway, Pippin moving to lean against the door, still looking as innocent as ever. It only took Merry a few seconds to come out with an armful of food, tossing me an apple and Pippin something that looked like a smoked leg. Chicken? Bigger? Who knew. I didn't know why but the idea that elves ate meat kind of surprised me.

They ate as we continued to creep around the beautiful city, between flowers, buildings, ducking away from guards and trying to smile their way past those who couldn't be ignored. I was offered a bit and only accepted the fruit. I wasn't hungry. I had this really bad feeling that I was doing something really stupid.

Finally we came up to a big wall, and we heard voices.

Pippin's hand flew to his mouth and he gestured for us to be quiet, kneeling down, peering through a curtain of ivy that dangled from the wall. From here, we caught the sound of voices, caught words being spoken. And as they were spoken, the most bizarre sense of Dejuavu struck me, like I'd heard them before. I could almost picture those speaking.

"...forces of Mordor at bay...by the blood of our people! Are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy...let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone...it has no other master." The blonde man turned on the speaker. "And what would a ranger know of this matter?"

I was tugged over and Merry pointed at another little man, sitting on a chair probably made for much larger people than him,looking pretty out of place there. Legolas was there too, I noticed, with his not so friendly buddy. That cloak I'd had on while on the horse was on him now. I'd have to thank him later for the use of that. It must have needed a lot of cleaning with how muddy and bloody I'd been. Legolas stood pretty fast as the blonde man went towards his chair, just a step.

"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Why did they keep mentioning who they were sons of? Did that really matter? I wasn't sure. I made a note to ask someone later. Right now I was confused about why they were arguing over a ring. Yet, it was so familiar. All of it. It felt like I'd already seen it, all of it, but …

"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas must have not had enough of the 'rubbing salt in wound', because he added, eyes fixed on the blonde man.

The dark haired man sounded kind of frustrated. "Havo dad, Legolas."

The blonde man scowled. "Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no king."

There was a pause as the men sat there, a kind of awkward pause, until the old man spoke up. I sat there on my legs, staring in, as they continued to have their meeting.

"Aragorn is right...we cannot use it."

"You have only one choice..the ring must be destroyed."

One of the small men with beard leapt up, axe in hand. "Then...what are we waiting for?" He charged for it with the axe, stricking it, and pieces of metal rained everywhere as the man was flown backwards.

I flinched, so did Merry and Pippin, as pieces of the man's axe flew past us.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom...only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." The calm voice sounded familiar too, from someone blocked by the stone pillar of the wall, and I blinked.

It felt familiar. So familiar. Like I could just ... say the words with them. This entire thing. It felt like I knew exactly what they'd do as they did it. I opened my mouth, wordlessly finding myself saying the words with the blonde man, much to my surprise and the surprise of Pippin who seemed to notice.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust...the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Pippin blinked at me and I stared back at him, equally as surprised as he was, for I'd gotten every single word correct. Even the pauses. It was weird. Merry hadn't noticed, his eyes were on the meeting, and Pippin's eyes went from me to the meeting slowly as Legolas spoke again.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed." Lord Elrond? That must have been who was speaking.

The little man with the beard spoke up again. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?"

"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" The blonde man clearly was not satisfied with this, he was almost ready to stand, I saw his shoulders tensing and bunching up as if he was seconds from standing all over again.

It wasn't just him though- everyone in that meeting, except Frodo, looked tense and angry, like they were seconds from punching someone in the face. The little beard man was the first to rise up though, fast, anger and resentment all over his face.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

An argument broke out, people stood, voices raised.

"Wonder where Sam is?" Pippin said softly, pretty lighthearted for the moment, as he shifted closer to my side to see better. "Can you see him, Merry?"

"Shh, Pippin. We'll get caught." Merry hissed and nudged him

. A soft voice rose over the loud din of the arguments. Something about someone taking it.

"Frodo?" Pippin blinked.

"-ill take it." Frodo was saying, as the crowd turned in his direction, partly blocking him from view. "Though...I do not know the way."

The old man moved closer to where I had to assume Frodo was, though I couldn't see him now, voice pretty clear. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." More movement, and another voice, the dark haired man. Son of... I didn't know.

"If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. ...you have my sword." I started to silently copy the words again, as they spoke them, and this time Merry did notice.

Pippin had elbowed him. But the words... I didn't understand it, but I knew these words. Legolas' voice came up.

"And you have my bow."

"And my axe."

"You carry the fate of us all, little one." The blonde man seemed to have calmed down as well. I could see him now, the crowd was clearing, see the little group standing around Frodo. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." That was nice of him.

I wasn't sure why this bothered me though. Strange.

"Here!" Someone yelled.

"Sam!" Pippin exclaimed, spitting out bread as he did, and I saw half a loaf of bread still crooked carefully in his arm. Typical.. I was sure one of the elves nearest to us turned in our direction somewhat at that.

"Shhh!" Merry jabbed him, standing, like he was getting ready to run off. Pippin stood too, and I stood, my knees aching from kneeling on the cold stone.

" Mr. Frodo's not gong anywhere without me." This Sam decided, stubborn, standing near Frodo.

"No, Indeed...it is hardly possible to separate you...even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." He sounded sort of amused. I felt kind of sick suddenly. Secret meeting? Oh crap.

Half an hour as their concious guest and I was already doing the wrong thing.

Merry jolted forward, suddenly, Pippin following him, one of Pippin's hands on my baggy shirt. His precious bread loaf crashed to the ground in his haste. I had no choice but to follow, not really, as Merry yelled, " Oi! We're coming too! You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

Legolas caught my eyes and I saw surprise, just briefly, flash across his face.

I flushed as I was dragged past a bunch of strangers, past this Lord Elrond dude, and stood beside the group, my knees suddenly weak. Oh man. These two might fit in a sack but me?

Pippin crossed his arms, somehow keeping a grip on my pants, though I wasn't sure why. If I tried to run I'd probably collapse. Crap. Crap. Crap... "Anyway...you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing..."

"Well, that rules you out, Pip." Merry grinned at his friend.

I felt Lord Elrond's eyes burning into me and I made myself look at him. Lord Elrond. Half Elf. Wife had been raped and sent to undying lands. Had a daughter and twin sons. Was a twin himself, his brother chose mortality, and had died hundreds of years ago. This information flashed through my head as our eyes met, and it felt like he'd known what I'd thought, because for a fraction of a second I was sure I saw surprise there. Shock even. I might have just imagined it though because then it was gone. He gazed over us slowly. "Ten companions ... so be it. You shall be the "Fellowship of the ring"

"Great. Where are we going?" Pippin grinned. Was he joking or serious?

I wasn't sure.

The meeting was clearly over though. I felt Legolas's hand brush across my back, as people started to move away, Frodo between the old man and the dark haired man. Pippin and Merry went to follow, with this Sam person, and I wondered... Lord Elrond stepped between me and them, his face kind of dark, and I felt Legolas move a little closer, just for a moment.

Then he was backing off too. Oh thanks, really.

"You and I should speak." Lord Elrond spoke finally.

No room for argument or discussion over this. He turned, glanced back, before I followed him silently into a nearby room. I had the distinct feeling that I'd overstepped my boundaries as a guest and done something really stupid. Crap. That was the last time I went on adventures with miniature men. Also, I really had to pee.

Peeing was forgotten as I was caught in an Elf Lord's eyes. He stared at me and I suddenly had the urge to duck for his couch, hide under it, and plea for sanctuary. Or something. I didn't even know my name and I was already in trouble?

"You're awake." He said, eyes fixed on me, but no warmth. "Have you regained memories?"

"No." Except, I realised, except about him. Memories about this elf person. Were they real or had my mind just made a whole bunch of stuff up? That was possible. "I don't really remember anything."

He moved to touch the table, barely leaning against it, and I caught a glimpse of a ring on his finger. Again, memories flooded my head, awareness of what that ring meant. Elvish Ring of Power. Water.

Lord Elrond's head turned sharply in my direction and I glanced away towards a pile of books, trying to look as if I hadn't been caught staring at his pretty ring.

"You know things you shouldn't." He stated, softly, stepping towards me. I wanted to step backwards but I felt rooted to the spot. Lord Elrond moved very close, his long robes shuffling gently in his movement, till he was just inches away.

"I don't know what I know." His height made it easy to avoid his eyes at this close range but it didn't help. I felt kind of nervous and the urge to pee came back again. "It just comes into my head. I don't even know my name and I don't know if things that come in are real or fake."

"You had foresight during the Council meeting." Elrond gestured behind me, and I turned, to see a mirror in the trees.

A mirror? It was held up by a female statue, who bent over beside it, her arm around it. I hadn't seen it while I was gawking at the meeting. I hadn't really thought about the pretty surroundings. But it was more or less half directed towards the stone area we'd been hiding in. Had he seen my reflection in that mirror?

Lord Elrond was quick to continue and answer my unspoken queory. "I watched you."

Ah. Bugger. I turned back to him and somehow brought myself to meet his eyes, half cringing before I met them, half expecting to be cut down or something. He just stared passively down at me. "I don't know what it is."

"No, and yet..." He reached up to touch my ears. My ears? Again? I reached up to touch it too, not entirally sure what he was so interested about. It wasn't an Elven ear. That wasn't what I found.

What I did find, to my horror, was that one of my ears was gone.

Gone.

I had no fucking ear.

I grabbed for the other one and found it there, more or less, but the top of it was weird. Catching another mirror in my sight, I headed for it, not caring how rude it was. What had happened to me? One ear was more or less gone. The other was there but the top of it looked like it had literally been cut off somehow. And I had a scar across the side of my face from that cut ear to my cheekbone.

"What happened to me?" I stared, heart pounding, trying to breathe. I felt kind of weird, faint, my head spun. Oh god. I was a freak.

"You were unconscious on the banks of our river, one day north. Lord Legolas found you and a child there, grievously injured, half-dead. My healers could not repair the damage to your ears but the scarring will fade."

How much was there? I hadn't really looked at myself before. Pippin, Merry and the council thing were completely out of my head now, I stared down at my arms. There were faint scars and stuff. "I don't remember how it happened."

"No." He said softly. I'd said this before. Of course he knew that. "Your kin is, therefore, unknown."

"Why, because you can't tell if I have pointy or round ears?" I caught Lord Elrond's face in the mirror's reflection. It was suddenly guarded and he turned to walk away towards a balcony, quiet. I felt like he hadn't dismissed me. Did he need to think? The news about my ears and body kind of flustered me. "I don't think I'm like you."

"No." He agreed, softer, staring ahead.

So I was probably human. What was the problem with that then? "So I'm probably human?"

"Yes. Although." He turned slowly. This time when he spoke, it was softer. "I've met or heard nothing of a human with the gift of foresight. They have no gifts remaining in their blood. They have become weak. You, whatever you are, are not a human. Not one that belongs to this world of Men. You belong to something else. Your face, your body, has been healed by means no Man in this world knows. Your body heals faster than most men of this world. Your blood contains something else."

This didn't answer any questions. It just raised more. Lord Elrond didn't volenteer any other information either, he just stood there, staring at me.

"So I'm special?"

"No."

Oh. That was a relief and kind of insulting. I shifted on my feet as his gaze swept up and down me. "You are different." For a long time we stared at each other, this Elf Lord and myself, until he changed the subject. "Your part in the Fellowship is not expected. I did not foresee your arrival, nor your part in this, and I know not what this means. But you are to go now."

"I don't have to." It kind of sounded like he hadn't wanted me in it, honestly.

"You became apart of it by will of fate, for reasons I yet do not understand." Lord Elrond turned to walk towards his table again, slowly, but I felt his attention was still on me. "Your foresight may play a factor. The Wizard Gandalf already knows of you. I have explained to him what you are and what you are not. If you have vision, if you have memory, you must confide in him alone. He will know what to do."

This was clearly an order and I had to guess one of the strange men was the wizard. But how had Lord Elrond already told him, when we'd come straight here? The more I talked to this Elf Lord the more I felt befuddled by questions. No answer he gave me satisfied me. "Who is he?"

"He is the elderly man. Tonight, at the feast, you shall meet each of the Fellowship and they in turn will meet you. Your name-" He paused softly, reaching down to take a book, shifting the pages slowly. "Is now Wenduin, maiden of the river."

For a long time he stood there quietly, before taking a feather, and dipping it in black stuff. Ink, I supposed, before he moved to write it down on a slip of thick stiff parchment. He handed it to me.

"Keep it with you. Keep it safe, Wenduin."

I held it, staring at it, kind of overwhelmed. Then I carefully slid it into a pocket. Lord Elrond suddenly smiled, a smile that shocked me, but it was gone for a moment.

"You will receive clothing more suited to your shape."

"But like this, yeah?" I muttered. "Not a dress?"

"Your journey to come will require more practical clothing, yes. Some dresses will be expected until then. The girl also asked for that clothing." He shifted back.

"How's the girl?" I felt bad suddenly. All I'd been doing was worrying about myself. She'd looked terrible!

"Very well. She recovered faster than you. I have made arrangements for her to be kept safe, out of sight, until this is done."

I blinked at him. Safe? "Why safe?"

"You and she were together and your knowledge, however lost to you now, is of great interest to any enemy between you and Mordor." Lord Elrond was speaking softly again. "Capturing her may bring you back, if she is seen as your daughter, and she would not survive what torment our enemies would use upon her. She remains guarded."

His words, although they had no actual detail, kind of made me feel sick. They'd capture her to try and get me back? Do nasty things? I was suddenly really glad it was some Elves that'd found me and no one else. This man, however much his answers only provoked questions, at least seemed to think ahead enough to know to protect her.

"She'll be safe here?"

"She will be safe." He nodded. "For a time. But the ring must be destroyed. No one will be safe if it is not."

And with that optimistic note I was dismissed.

I found myself dismissed into the care of a pair of maids, both Elven women, who took one look at my clothing and dragged me back to the room I'd woken in. Dragged probably was the wrong word, really, but they walked pretty fast and I was breathless by the time we'd made it back, from the paths that sloped up and down, and the stairs, my room some distance from everyone else.

We were only there a moment though.

"You are being moved into a safer place." One of the women explained as she folded up some things. "Closer to the rest of the Fellowship. First though, please change." She held out a light green dress as her eyes went over my masculine clothing again.

I was too oxygen deprived to argue, two Elven women dragging the clothing off, and saw for the first time what damange had really been done. I had scars all over me, bruises still fading, and my injured shoulder, although healed now, still was a nasty yellow-green shade where there must have been a lot of bruising.

"The scars will fade," The other maid, who I'd dubbed Maid B, said softly. She must have caught me staring at them. "Your ears will not grow back."

Duh. But I didn't say anything except, "Um. I need to... you, pee. Bathroom." Blank looks. "Relieve myself?"

A flash of understanding over Maid A's face made her smile suddenly and she pointed towards a door I had not yet looked into.

"A pot awaits you. We have a bath and a dress awaiting you in your new quarters."

So the green dress, I had to guess, was just to wear for the walk from A to B. Kind of pointless. I hurried into the tiny room and stared at the pot.

It was tiny.

God, how the hell did people live without toilets? Toilets? I had this memory of one. Big. White. Flushed stuff away. My first memory and it was of a toilet. This little pot, painted a pretty blue and white, seemed totally useless. I lifted the cloth off it, half expecting to see something nasty already inside, but it was shiny and clean looking. Okay. This wasn't right.

I tried to use it and almost tipped over, pants down, face red as I nearly knocked it over. Where did it go later? I was sure I'd half peed all over myself trying to get my aim right.

"Mlady? Are you all right?"

Bloody elf ears. They knew exactly how badly I'd done. My face grew warmer as I tried to stand. No toilet paper. Okay. How did elves smell so good? I hurriedly let them dress me, face red, aware one part of my now abandoned pants was kind of wet.

"Your leg must still be hurting." One of them said softly, understanding suddenly, and I didn't correct her. My legs felt fine. Great. Better they assume that than know I didn't know how to go to the toilet. "This is hwy you were slow."

"The bath has healing herbs ready." Maid A tugged the dress up my waist, ignoring my attempts at covering my boobs, and up my arms. "Do not be ashamed."

The dress was tied at the back and I wandered behind them, as they walked slower now, just wanting to get into a bath and feel clean again. This time luckily we'd run into no one, not Elf, not hobbit, not human, nothing. Once we were in a new room, this one a fraction larger than the last, I was taken into a tiled room where a steaming bath was waiting.

It was such a relief to be inside it that I almost didn't care that Maid A and Maid B insisted on remaining inside the room and scrubbing my back. Almost. But after a few minutes I grabbed the soap, a pretty organic looking thing that smelt like roses and had little seeds in it, and did it myself. They weren't deterred though- I suddenly felt fingers in my hair, grabbing it, washing it. It'd been so dirty and unwashed that I didn't argue.

"Your hair is beautiful." Maid A, I guessed from the voice, actually sounded surprised. Okay. It'd looked pretty grungy before, I had to admit, but it wasn't like that all the time. "But short." She added, quickly. She herself had long dark hair, so I guessed she wasn't used to the idea of shorter hair, it looked like she'd had hair like that for almost all her life.

"It will suit her journey better." Maid B agreed. Suddenly, she'd dunked water over my head, washing whatever soap was gone.

I let them stay there until the bubbles were fading, which were the only things really hiding my body, and when they were gone I stared at msyelf in the water. I wasn't exactly beautiful, not like those women, I was thicker bodied than them. Curvier. Sometimes I was mistaken for a guy with longer hair, sometimes, if I wore clothes that hid my shapes. I usually did- I'd always felt self concious about the curves, always felt like I'd needed to be thinner before I really 'showed off'. I must have lost a little weight though- my body wasn't as large as I remembered. Guessed lying in bed unconscious probably did a lot to help that.

I lay in the bath as long as possible, the warm water soothing me even as it cooled around me, staring at the darkening world outside. After some time I heard a knock and those women again.

"Mlady? The feast is soon and you're not dressed."

I got up slowly, as quietly as possible, attempting to hide this from them. They were not fooled, their bloody Elven hearing catching on, and before I could protest I was surrounded by the two again, covered in some soft fabric clearly intended for drying, something else rubbing at my head victoriously.

They fussed, made me rub stuff on myself when I refused to let them, some kind of lotion that also smelt of roses just faintly. Tugged clothing onto me, some kind of thing I guessed was underwear, leggings 'to keep warm in the night', a cream dress, ran a comb through hair. They kept my ears covered, I noticed, as they tried to do something with it. Something to do with braids or something. Any nerves I felt about this feast thing were forgotten, they were good at distracting me, tugging laces a fraction too hard around my waist, or around my wrists, shoes on feet, yanking tangles out of my hair. Elves were pretty, sure, but I was starting to see the downside of this- they were obsessive about it. I stood there for a good hour, perfectly still, as they fussed, and fussed, and fussed, and it was only when I was oiled, and combed, and tugged, and laced, and bejewelled, and fragrant that they backed off.

"Wenduin, daughter of the river, you are done."

It took me a moment to know the name as mine and I blinked, nodding, letting them lead me to some mirror. I stared at a complete stranger. Long wavy red-brown hair, surprised brown eyes, face glowing as much as those bloody Elf maids beside me, the cream and pale green silky dress making me look like I was almost glowing myself. Or was the lotion they'd made me rub on myself some kind of 'glow' thing? I wondered if I'd discovered the secret as to why so many Elves appeared to glow. I looked like a woman, every curve showed off by the soft silky fabric, and with the way it hung on me, my breasts looked incredible. Seriously. I wanted to touch them myself. It was amazing.

Then I caught sight of myself next to the two maids, both of them slender, a hundred times more feminine and beautiful than myself, without a blemish or a scar to them. My freckles, all over the place, my scars, my mutilated ears, compared to them.

I felt the awe of my reflection fade and saw myself once more as I usually did- an overweight girl with slightly more masculine features. One who now had scars to add to it. Sure, I had a pretty dress, sparkly jewels, but nothing much had really changed.

"So, feast?" I tried to say lightly.

"Yes, the feast. You shall sit with the Fellowship. No speaking is required of you-" I had to assume she meant I didn't have to make a speech, "-simply relax, eat, and speak with the Fellowship."

I hoped Pippin and Merry would be pausing between gulping food down. They were the only two I really felt comfortable with, besides Legolas, but the more I spent around Elves, the more separated I felt from them. He had helped me, that was nice, but I wasn't the same as him. Besides, he was some kind of Prince, and they were slightly overweight hobbits with curly hair. I could relate more to them. Maybe even enjoy food.

I'd stick with the little men. Hope they didn't get me into some other trouble. If they did, I'd … well, say no. Or something.

Swallowing, I let the maids lead me out into the darkness, trying to not freak out. This would be okay. Right? Feast, meeting strangers, wandering around in a dress, and then back to bed. How bad could this get, seriously?

The feast was, like Rivendell, visually spectacular. Great tables, covered in dark blue cloth, with banners flying around the hall. Elves everywhere in all kinds of garments. I had been awake for just a few hours and I was already so overwhelmed by this- all this beauty!- that I couldn't really take it all in.

The smells were amazing too. Food, flowers, musky woody scents, no one stank here. Wine, alcohol, and somehow the scent of water mingling over everything and everywhere. Creepers scaled each wall, each pillar, through the knotwork on the ceiling, and flowers cascaded from the edges of the room to serve as natural walls, some falling from the ceiling, everything perfectly positioned.

And the outfits. I could have stood there, gawking in the doorway, staring at everyone's clothing for hours and hours. Dresses, robes, jewellery, and the way it always seemed to move and dance on Elves just right.

But while I saw it, I felt a bit strange here, because there were mostly only Elves here. And they were aloof, barely noticing or paying attention to anyone not of their own, with the Fellowship being the only exception. I saw open hostility several times, just as I was shown to my seat, flashed in the direction of the little hairy men. Dwarfs, I suspected, though I wasn't really sure how I knew the name for them.

To my relief I was sitting beside Pippin, Merry on his other side, and he looked as gobsmacked and overwhelmed as I probably looked. He wasn't even eating that apple hidden in his lap yet!

"Hi." I offered. I actually surprised him, he jumped, stared at me for a few seconds, and the dots connected in the hobbit's brain. Messy ratty haired large woman, pretending to be guy, turned into clean haired large woman who was now clearly a woman.

"Oh, it's you! Hello." He grinned and gazed back to the room. "When do you think we'll start feasting?"

"Think we're waiting on the Lord Elrond, Pip." Merry replied from his other side. He'd leaned back in his chair to see me and was still staring, as openly at me as he'd stared at the Elves. "Definitely a woman."

"Yes." Pippin agreed. His eyes were back on the room now though.

I saw two other little men beside them, not bearded, but clean and curly haired. Frodo and Sam. They both looked kind of overwhelmed too, sitting there in nice but fairly simple clothing, cleaned up and totally out of place. Not far from them was the dark haired man. He looked much more at ease, talking with an Elf fluently in their language, already with a goblet of something in hand.

After a few minutes, once the sight had set in, I started to really take it in. We, the Fellowship, sat slightly separate to the majority of the feasters. They sat down below in a open area, one side overlooking the river, a good floor below us. There were half a dozen Elves up here, sometimes more coming or going up and down the stairs, but the seating arrangement was probably for just three or four extra people. There was also another Hobbit, an elderly looking man, who looked like he was half asleep already.

We too had an amazing view of the river but with a rail up, twisted or carved wood, and gauzy curtains waving backwards and forwards with the flowers from the vines on, over and between each one.

"Wenduin?" A voice asked, from my previously empty side, and I jumped to see Legolas sitting down with as much grace as any Elf here, maybe more so. Prince Legolas?

"Hi, um... Your highness?" I offered, and his lips twitched at that. "Prince? My Lord?"

"Just Legolas, informally. Which is what this is." His eyes swept over the amazing sight.

Could have fooled me, I thought to myself, staring back to the Elves. It felt about as formal as these things came. "What is formal for Elves?"

Another smile, amusement reaching his eyes, and he reached out for the goblet. Almost instantly someone was there to fill it. "There would be no other races, for one."

Ah, so that meant me too. Probably. I watched as I reached for a glass, some Elf woman quick to notice and get to my table before I even touched the smooth metal side, pouring something into it. What was it? I took a sniff and guessed it was wine but- "What's this?"

Legolas took it from me, taking a quick sip, and was quick to put it back down again. "Human ale."

"Ale?"

"You've never had it?"

"I don't think so." But then, I didn't remember, did I? I took the goblet back as he offered it and took a slow sip. It wasn't exactly nice and I put it down quickly, trying to hide my displeasure in case I offended someone.

"Lord Elrond has probably asked his servents to serve drink customary to each race. Ale is, as far as I know, most likely for the race of men unless from Rohan." Legolas sipped his own drink slowly, eyes shut, obvious pleasure on his face. I wanted what he was having. It looked great. "They prefer mead."

"Elves?"

He opened one eye to gaze at me. "Our own wine. Other races would be drunk much too quickly. This is imported from Mirkword, likely for myself."

That _almost_ sounded like a challenge. Almost. I'd have to remember to take him up on that later when the feast was over. It bothered me though. "Don't humans drink wine?"

"Some do. It's not so common or well liked almongst the world of men." Legolas's eyes flashed to my ears, or where the hell they were supposed to be, and he asked softer, "Has Lord Elrond offered any insight into your mystery?"

"No, except that I'm not Elf, not human, and not special." I didn't mean to sound bitter but that was what I'd gotten from it and ...well, _that_ didn't explain a thing to me.

It clearly interested him though, because he shifted in my direction a fraction, his eyes again doing one of those sweeping things over me. "Elven captives often have their ears mutliated as an insult by the Orc-kind."

"Do they?"

He nodded, and for a moment, the smile was gone. I saw something else, something darker, Legolas's lips pressing together for just a moment as if he was holding something back. Instead of answering my question he brought something else up. "Do you know any combat?"

Oh, I thought I saw where he was going with this, and I really wanted to get drunker before I confessed to this very big problem. So I shrugged offhand and turned to take the ale back, taking another sip, doing my best to ignore the offensive taste and smell.

A hand reached over me and grabbed it, the blonde man taking it, laughing. His bad mood from the Council was clearly gone and I wondered if he'd already been drinking. "Legolas, you're too serious for this. More importantly, does the Lady enjoy her ale. I know no Lady who ever has." He drank it with one swift drink as he sat down on Legolas' other side. I had to admit, when he was nice, he wasn't bad looking. A bit scruffy but … not bad looking.

He was clearly heard by more than myself and Legolas, because I caught the sudden flinch of the woman who'd served me, and felt bad for her. It wasn't like she'd know. If she had spent her whole life around Elves how would she know what human women liked?

"That was Boromir. What would you like, Wenduin?" Legolas gestured to the woman, shifting closer.

"Wine. Or, um. Water. Wine for later."

I saw his lips twitch again, just a fraction, and he shrugged as he turned to the woman and did that Elvish language thing with her. It was just a few moments before she'd returned with water.

The feast started not long after that, with food brought out, and I found myself with another problem. No memory of what I liked to eat meant I didn't know what to ask for. Did I like the roast pork? Did I like the fancy ...bread thing? Did I like sweet or savoury? And I was starving. I hadn't eaten all day. There was so much to choose from though, as if Lord Elrond had made a big effort in making sure all eating styles were complimented. Meats mostly for the Dwarfs, the Hobbits with pie and bread and cheese and god knew what else in those little jars. Jams? Chutneys? Who knew, they just piled it all on the pies and bread and went for it. Legolas, more of a vegetable man, but not as light an eater as I'd have thought given his tall slender physyiche. Boromir was a big eater. The dark haired man and the elderly man were the two that seemed to barely eat at all.

"Eat." Legolas commented when he saw I'd barely started into some kind of pie, chunk of meat and some vegetables. "You will need energy for what is to come."

I needed to loose weight for what was to come, I suspected, but that wasn't the issue. I was staring at the meat and finding myself kind of repulsed by it. It was a fricken leg. A leg! Okay, part of one, but it …

I went for the vegetables and avoided both the meat and pie. Couldn't touch them. The meat made me feel sick. I felt relieved when those were taken away and I was offered more vegetables instead. My water was replaced with something sweeter and warm, not alcoholic, maybe honey melted into hot water.

"Lord Aragorn's idea." Legolas informed me, softly, as everyone chatted happily and loudly around us. Everyone except Frodo and Sam, I noticed. "I heard him suggest it."

"I'll have to thank him. It's a bit cold for water." I admitted. The night had started to take on a colder edge, now that the sun had fallen, and I had started to feel a bit colder. Then, "Um, which is he again?" The wizard or the guy who was apparently an heir?

"The man with dark hair, who watches us now."

I turned to see him, Aragorn, lift his glass to us and nod slowly. Watchful eyes seemed to catch me and see right through me. I half wanted to ask him what he saw.

Instead, I went back to eating, quiet as everyone talked and laughed around me.

As the feast went on, the curtains between the lower level and upper level were closed, and I found myeslf in the small space with only the Fellowship, with Lord Elrond, two other Elves and the old Hobbit who was well and truly asleep now. Sweeter food came out, incredible looking food, flowers that were coated in crystallised honey and looked absolutely perfect, things I could only describe as cakes, sweet breads, fruits both raw and cooked, and the tables were taken away. Now there were no longer servants- the drinks were clearly 'self-serve'. Candles were blown out, leaving only a few remaining, and it became darker. Mood lighting? Oh boy.

I had to guess this was the part where we all mingled, drank, and bonded. Both the familiar faces of Pippin and Legolas vanished, suddenly, and I found myself with Boromir all over again as he brought me something else.

"Here." He offered and I sniffed it. Boromir grinned. "Tis only wine. Human wine. From Gondor. I thought you may like this better."

I tried it and had to admit, it wasn't bad, a sweet fruity thing that only had the slightest bit of alcohol. Boromir drank his drink as he stood beside me, towering over me somewhat, relaxed now.

"There were only meant to be nine in this brotherhood." He informed me, cheerful and relaxed, almost putting an arm over me. I could smell a little more alcohol on him now. He was probably half drunk already. "It is strange Lord Elrond allows you- such a soft woman. What are you? Elf-kind? Born of man? Perhaps a little of both? Are you one of the wizards? Or there to serv-"

Before I could answer, someone else was there suddenly, and Boromir's face darkened as he met the calm eyes of Aragorn. He muttered something about alcohol and vanished into the darkness.

"Serve?" I muttered. Did he just say 'There to serve'. What was he thinking, I was sent along to give them wine when they were weary, cook their dinners? Maybe. Maybe he thought I was serving something _else_.

"Listen not to Boromir- he has had much to drink." Aragorn's eyes were still on Boromir's back. "No one questions the will of Lord Elrond nor your contribution to the Fellowship."

"Whatever reason I'm there, it's not to serve you lot." I muttered.

"No, and should he press that issue, you need but call. Legolas watches your back." Aragorn nodded. "Boromir is a proud man, however, and has honour enough. I doubt he'd be a problem. Most likely the drink and food loosens his mind a little."

I kind of agreed. But just in case, I put that Gondor wine down, and went back for my water. As I did, I saw what Aragorn meant, because Legolas was still turned in my direction. Talking to someone, one of the elves with Lord Elrond, but his eyes flickered to mine as I turned around.

"He feels more responsible for you- having ofund you in such bad condition. Did you answer him about combat?" Aragorn had taken my arm and I found myself directed to a darker corner.

Before I could answer, Legolas had actually appeared, and I was cornered by the two of them. What were they doing? Working together? Given what Aragorn's question was I had to assume this was the case.

"I don't remember." I muttered. These three words were starting to bug me a little. "Remember?"

"Tis unlikely- few human maidens know the sword or bow." Aragorn frowned, meeting Legolas' eyes.

"Some Elven women do." Again I swore I caught Legolas' grey eyes go to my ears. It was like he wasn't totally convinced I wasn't Elf. Because I had glow-lotion on and the tops of my ears were missing?

"But I'm not Elf." I tried to remind him, half tempted to cover where one of my ears had been, and saw him shrug a bit. It made me self concious about them. Sure, maybe I sparkled a bit tonight, but I could still feel my uncertainty and doubt lingering in the back of my mind... about them, about my body, because I knew that I was the largest woman in the room. I knew that I'd been stared at more than once tonight.

"We leave the morn after tomorrow, just at sunrise. You will need to be tested. I need to know what equipment to get for you from Lord Elrond." Aragorn was still looking kind of concerned. "Better know now. The journey will require too much energy to carry the wrong weapon for your size."

Ow. I felt a bit awkward. Crap. As if this thing wouldn't be hard enough on them, now I was stressing them out? "Well, um. When do you want to test me?"

"In the morning. Tonight, we drink and dance and make merry." Boromir answered, cutting Aragorn off, dragging me under Legolas' arm. I was twirled around, his smile back, and found myself yanked backwards by Legolas. Boromir, however close to drunk he was, looked a bit put off by that and I kind of felt bad for the guy. He hadn't exactly given himself the best reputation at the council. He held up his hands. "I mean no harm."

Whatever he meant, he didn't come back near me all night, and I found myself dancing with an increasingly silly Pippin instead, before being led around and formally introduced to each member of the Fellowship. Gandalf, the wizard, the hobbits, the dwarf, everyone. Now that the 'informal' feast was over people were geninuely relaxed, Gandalf was sitting in a corner with the elderly hobbit smoking, the smaller hobbits were laughing and creating a huge dent in the display of sweet foods, also smoking here and there. It kind of smelt like weed, I realised, and was amused to see them a bit stoned.

Okay. So now I got why the hobbits were so cheerful all the damn time.

I made my way to the balcony to escape the smoke as it got late, and the room got smokier and smokier, clutching a glass of 'human wine'. Rohan, apparently, though there was no one from Rohan here. I'd asked just in case. Where on earth was Rohan anyway?

"I'll need to get a map." I muttered. Might be wise if I was wandering around this place. I yawned, tempted to crawl into bed, as I heard a voice respond.

"I will show you one before we leave." Legolas _again_, standing there on the dark balcony, completely unnoticed by me. I wondered if he'd thought I was speaking to him. He stepped closer, eyes on the horizon, but his attention on me again. If he was drunk I couldn't tell, though his hands trembled slightly, and the wine in his hands did not look like human wine. It kind of glowed, so much that the silver goblet it was in glowed with it, the rich dark red liquid moving of its own accord.

"Elves love glowing things, don't they?" I muttered, without thinking, and he smiled.

"Yes."

I saw the dwarf, Gimli, wander out. He took one look at Legolas and walked back in, with just a curt nod in my direction. That was interesting. "He doesn't like you?"

"Elves and Dwarfs have long had mistrust of each other. Many things have happened between us, as races." Legolas glanced back over his shoulder. Gimli was leaving for the night, it seemed, with an armful of food. "It is not easily forgotten."

"I think it takes two or three generations before war is forgotten so-" I wondered where I'd heard that. I couldn't remember.

"Then we have a great many years to wait." Legolas said softly.

"Might be a human thing." I offered. He kind of seemed downed by that. Woops. "You know. Elves might be-"

"Not so different than you might think. Our age makes us feel long seperated from the child-men of the world." He muttered.

"Child-men?"

"All men seem as children to us." Legolas turned to stare into the smokey room fully now, arm against mine in the cold air, staring inside. He stared at Aragorn and Boromir in particular. "So short lived, so little time, and dead before they've impacted their world. They seem to live only to create children before they leave again."

His words made me shiver. It made him seem old, ancient, really removed from me, from the others, like he was something else. "How old are you?"

Legolas blinked and smiled, standing, the spell broken. He looked thirty, to my eyes, but I suspected it was a hell of a lot more than that. He held out the goblet. "Here. Try this."

Oh god. Elvish wine. I took it and, his eyes fixed in mine, sniffed it cautiously. Berries. Spice. Pepper. Orgasmic ...sparkles. God, I didn't know how to describe this one.

"The silver proves there is no poison."

"That wasn't what I was checking. I was smelling it to figure out what it'd taste like." I muttered. Slowly I took a sip, tasting it, letting it roll around my mouth. Or that was the intention. The second it found my tastebuds it was an explosion of sensations. Not just taste, but smell, and touch, and even sight, I swore my sight just went sharper. Not that it hurt or anything but... I swallowed it before I could see Legolas' perfect pores on his damn perfect nose through a haze of orgasmic ...glowing wine. He laughed as I gaped at him. I held it out. Back to Rohan wine. "What kind of grapes make _this_!"

"Secret." Legolas smiled as he pushed the goblet back at me. "The first mouthful is the strongest. It grows softer as you get to know it."

Oh, so it wanted to move in before it settled down? I took another cautious sip and found he was more or less right. This time there was less vison altering going on. It was sweet, so spicy, and I did almost taste something like pepper, something that kind of bit into my tastebuds and hold on. It was cold but it felt... alive, for lack of a better word. Pleasure ran down my spine as I swallowed it, my back shuddering, tempted to shut my eyes. Oh god. This and a bath. And a massage. It left the tingling in the back of my throat, all the way to my stomach, and I swore I felt electricity go right through my boobs, feet, hands, and anything else that stuck out.

"You like it?"

I nodded, breathing out slowly, cheeks flushed. "You drink this stuff in public?"

I was rewarded with another of his soft laughs, his grey eyes fixed in mine, Legolas nodding. "We have less … what word can I use. Less _fear_ of showing pleasure... than men. I have heard that Aragorn drinks this, but only with his lady."

"I can understand why." I stared at the cup. Two mouthfuls and I was already ...wow. What the hell did this do to human men if that was what it'd done to me? I stared around for somewhere to sit, suddenly, deciding I had to sit.

"Elvish wine! Merry!" I heard Pippin call, suddenly, excited. "I found it!"

Legolas muttered something in Elvish, stepping inside fast, but he was too late. Hobbits had found the special drink. Hobbits had drunk a glass each. I stared inside, amused and a little dazed. Pippin fell over, Merry stumbled back into Gandalf, some of the wine dribbling out of his now open mouth onto his once clean white shirt.

One cup did it. Even with Legolas and Gandalf hiding the wine, again, Merry and Pippin were _gone_. Stoned, drunk, they found a table and started to sing for anyone who'd listen. This included each other, so even when they were ignored, they danced and sang and knocked fruit onto the floor. It lasted for about ten minutes before Gandalf, Frodo and Sam helping, managed to hoist them up and carry them off.

I stood up on the balcony, drinking more wine as I stared down, watching as Pippin and Merry were carried and dragged away towards where they had to be sleeping, Pippin waving happily up in my direction. I wasn't affected.

Not till I drank a few more mouthfuls, and then I felt kind of weird, kind of dazed. The goblet was suddenly empty. I went for the Rohan wine, or tried to, but it was just dirt compared the orgasmic Elvish wine. Inside, Legolas had more wine, and I watched him drink it with a long steady drink. Several goblet fulls. Did Elves get drunk?

Legolas reappeared, but not before Boromir, and I had to admit dancing with him had suddenly gotten very fun. He knew how to do all kinds of old fashioned stuff. When I told him this, he looked kind of offended, informing me that this was the latest dance between man and woman in Gondor. Old fashioned dancing could be saved for the bed. He'd winked, reached out for a part of me that was not involved in dancing and...

That was when Legolas reappeared, like a flash, and I found myself again led away as Boromir laughed his head off.

I found myself led away towards my own room, Legolas calm, but his walk... a little off.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, bluntly, my words slightly slurred now. Oh. Maybe I was a little drunk. My own feet didn't seem to want to go the right pace either. I was lifted suddenly, Legolas picking me up like I was as tiny as those Elvish girls, and he stood there swaying slightly. He was either drunk or stoned. Aragorn wandered past, Boromir chasing after him, the two of them arguing about … I didn't know, stone or something stupid, I could barely understand either of them.

"No." Legolas missed the path and stepped into a pond, his hand not letting go of me fast enough, and the two of us crashed into the shallow water. He let off a string of Elvish, as we sat there hip deep in the freezing water, his eyes a little hazy.

"You are." I giggled, prodding him in the chest.

"I am... not. Here." I was lifted to my feet slowly in the water, and he tried to get up, but it wasn't working well. Legolas flopped down and stared at my legs, breathing hard.

A group of Elves passed by, suddenly, and he vanished under my skirt. They giggled at me, as drunk as I apparently was, one of the women already naked as she skipped past, an Elf man chasing after her, laughing as she fled with a squeal. What had Legolas said? Elves weren't as fearful of showing pleasure. It was pretty obvious there. They sang, ran, skipped, tripped over each other, and just got up and continued it. It was nice to see their shiny polished thing vanish... now they just looked like a bunch of very beautiful teenagers.

Still, I thought as I watched another trip over a tunic he'd stripped off and roll down a slope in his haste, they were very graceful fallers. Then I went bright red and tried to forget that I'd just seen an Elvish peepee flop around the Elf man's legs as he attempted to climb back up to his feet. And was that one of my maids, jumping on top of him, knocking him back down again? And how the hell did they still manage to look like glowing bloody alien ...humanoids, even when they were obviously drunk? I bet they puked sparkles and light.

It suddenly looked really fun to be an Elf. Seriously.

"Are they gone?"

"Uh huh. It's dark though. Anyone could be anywhere." I muttered, face burning, feeling Legolas emerge from under the soggy fabric. I tried to step, slippery ground nearly knocking me back down, Legolas arms around my legs the only thing really keeping me up. The world spun and I saw, or at least I assumed I did, the stars come closer to the world. Brighter. Shinier. "God, I shouldn't have drunk that. The stars are getting brighter. I'm hallucinating."

He just smiled and slowly stood up, nearly falling over, clutching hard to me as he tried to make it to his feet. "Well, you said it was dark. The stars listen to us."

"Us?" Oh here he went, with the Elf thing, I shoved him. Legolas clutched hard at me as he swayed, the two of us standing calf deep in the pond, his gaze turned up to the stars. "Hey, Elfy boy, I ain't an elf."

To my annoyance he responded in Elvish, leaning against me, swaying back and forward somewhat. I wanted to suddenly mess up his stupid perfect blonde hair. Where was Boromir with his gruff untidy look when I needed a real person to stare at? Legolas was looking increasingly glowy and perfect.

"Why are you following me around?" I muttered.

"I am responsible for you. I found you." Legolas shuffled slowly for the edge of the pond, dragging me behind, hands grasping for a tree that leaned nearby. He spoke to it as he leaned against it, eyes shut, relieved. "This tree is happy."

Tree? I stared at him, starlight all over him, and had a sudden insight. He looked like a fricken Pleadian.

Wait, what the hell was that?! Spaceship? He needed a spaceship. The man was an alien. I couldn't remember my real name but somehow I was remembering toilets and aliens? Great.

"You look like a Ple... Pleadian." I muttered, jabbing him in the chest, shutting my eyes. "You do. Where's your stupid spaceship?"

"Pleadian? What?" He flopped onto the edge of the pond, legs still in it, and I fell forward into his lap. Legolas seriously didn't seem to mind this right now, he held on to me, and the body heat kind of made up for the freezing air and water. Legolas was talking to me, asking me things, his stupid Elvish mouth doing that language again.

"I don't speak... I don't speak your alien tongue."

"Tongue?"

Hands grasped my head, suddenly, and Legolas's tongue was offered. What could I say? The alien had given me orgasmic wine, how could I refuse a tongue? We sat there, making out like horny teenagers, his breathing heavy. The controlled version of him had apparently gone on holiday with the sober version. Pleasure shuddered through me, as one hand ran down a bare arm, then inside, grazing over curves over the silky dress. I felt him shudder too, shifting closer,and suddenly he'd pulled my leg over him so I was straddling him. Slowly, almost shyly, I explored his face, his neck, finding the alien as responsive to my touch as I was to his... especially when I reached his ears.

"Elves ..." Legolas breathed against my lips, dropping his head, shuddering as my fingertips grazed the tips of his ears. "Do not fear pleasure." He murmered in Elvish against my throat, teasing it, a hand sliding up my dress. But there was one word, one word he kept repeating, and … I felt like it was a name.

It was only when I felt his fingers graze my ear, or lack of ear, that I felt some of my own common sense return. Crap. What the hell was I doing? I wasn't a whore and I was seriously drunk. Taking advantage of a drunk alien was probably very bad karma. Also, that name he was saying, it was starting to bother me. It wasn't my name.

I shoved his arm down, trying to stand, and he blinked up at me, confused. Legolas stared at me for some time, slowly, like I was a stranger until he seemed to remember who I was. Then regret flooded his face.

That somehow just hurt. Crap. Had he remembered how big I was?

"Mlady?" It was one of my Maids, the one that hadn't been half naked and drunk, and Legolas sat there. He didn't even speak now. He just looked regretful. I swayed, shutting my eyes, feeling ashamed. Of myself, of my fat body everything. Crap. I must have looked like a whore.

"I will retire. I am sorry." Legolas muttered, standing slowly, and headed off into the darkness, hands on trees, stumbling.

I was led back to the room, undressed, and crawled into bed. The warm pleasureable glow of that wine was gone now. It was just cold bed, cold sheets, and shame. Crap. Hello fellow Fellowship... here I was. The fat girl who apparently let anyone grope her after a glass of wine.

Wine that I needed to vomit into the pot.

I dreamt of tongues, of alien Elf men, dangly elf men's bits, and that voice. Dying in order to be reborn. Over and over. I wasn't sure where I was anymore. Dead, alive, it felt the same right now. I did not sleep well that night.

The night was terrible. No rest, just brief moments of sleep, between vomiting. Dreams. I swore I dreamed of the Fellowship, of horses, bizare looking humanoid things with pointy teeth and snake eyes, white hands, blood, a lot of violent things, but I could never put it together or make sense of it. Sometimes it got really out of hand- I saw some kind of old man, or was he a burning eyeball? I couldn't ever tell the difference, particually with how drunk the wine had made me, but there was always some glowing Elf woman inturrupting those dreams.

When I did wake, which felt like every ten minutes but was probably half an hour or more, I'd vomit into an always clean pot. The maid didn't leave my side for a moment. Was she even a maid, or just one of Lord Elrond's friends? Did Elves have maids? I was too sick to care. She was always there, her blonde hair tied back as far as she could get it, offering me water with herbs in it. At some point I realised that I was worse than hungover. It wasn't just being drunk. It was like being drugged. Like surgery, anesthetic, like I couldn't stay asleep but I couldn't quite wake up either.

That thought almost made me panic. For a while I lay there, half awake and half asleep, panic flooding me and making me want to scream. I couldn't. I screamed as loud as I could in my head, sure, almost convinced that this was it- that I'd spent the rest of my life in nightmares, vomiting when awake, totally trapped in a half asleep.

Then suddenly it was over, I felt better, and I really slept. This time no nightmares.

Scraping and cracking woke me up. One of the maids, the one who'd brought me home, knelt in front of a fireplace. Wood was arranged, a tiny flame starting to grow, twigs starting to catch. I groaned softly, the faint light of the fire already hurting my eyes, and shut them quickly. My head HURT. Some giant bolder was rolling around in it, squashing brain, eyes, sitting on spine...

"Drink this." She was there in seconds, holding out a cup, and I grasped it. "Quickly."

I drank quickly. Almost straight away, I wanted to puke it back up, it tasted like charcoal. It looked like it too, when I stared at the bit remaining, like she'd just fed me a whole bunch of charcoal.

Then, the nausea vanished, and with it, the crazy headache.

"Oh, of course." I muttered, shutting my eyes, relief flooding me as the hangover vanished. If Elves got drunk on wine that strong then naturally they'd have discovered a treatment. Or the wine would loose popularity fast. "Is that what Elvish wine does at the end?"

"No." She replied softly, reaching out to take the cup, and offering a damp cloth. "That's what poision does at the end."

"Bugger." I groaned, softly, rubbing my head. What was it? "Anyone else?"

"No." She responded. "And it was badly done. You would be dead if they had put thought into it."

I sat up slowly, trying to ignore the remains of the headache or the aftertaste of the 'cure', trying to get hair out of my face. I'd puked on the dress and she'd stripped it off. Course, I only realised this after I'd sat up, half my body exposed to the cold and to her view. Face reddening, I tugged sheets up.

"Um, thanks." I tried, as she stood up, the polished Elvin woman thing almost gone. She looked slightly tired. "For ….you know. Always being there."

"I am your healer. I am bound to heal your body and mind, until it is strong for the journey." For a moment I really saw her, not just as a pesky maid, but as an incredibility beautiful Elven woman, long blonde hair, glowing skin, with no trace of tiredness or irritability. She was distant, but not too much, and however she pretended to be relaxed, I sensed she was watching and listening to everything my body had done. "I would have you rest longer but Lord Aragorn insists you come now, however weakened."

That sounded kind of suspicious. Had Aragorn or Legolas done it? Poison the woman and see how bad she was, at her worst, so they knew how to protect her if bad shit exploded? I'd have to kick one of them in the balls if I found out they'd done that to me.

"What's your name?"

"NAME. There is a bath waiting, some simpler clothing near it, and Lord Aragorn is not far. You will see him easily enough. I must check on my sister." She bowed, a quick one, before heading out.

The sun hadn't even risen, I realised, and immediately felt grumpy and tired. But not at her. Whatever I was grumpy about, which seemed to be being woken up by Lord Action Man before sunrise, it wouldn't be at her. However little she liked humans she'd been beside me the entire night, while her friends frolicked, fucked and drank. That always said a lot about a person.

I stood up slowly. Every muscle in my body was tired, ready for more sleep, but legs held and I wandered slowly, sheet wrapped around me, for where I could see a steaming bath already waiting. Like before, herbs floated inside it, but these were less fragrant. The warm water did help bring strength back.

The sound of something caught my attention as I lay there, and I shifted to the other side of the bath, staring over. The bath was close enough to an open window for me to see down. Some hundred metres or more away I saw them. Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas. They were probably training- they were moving, sometimes a sword would catch the soft light of dawn, more or less ignoring one another. Crazy men. Didn't anyone sleep around here? Or was this an ego thing? Who could get the least amount of sleep and train the hardest was the biggest man.

We were leaving tomorrow. I wasn't even sure where we were going yet, something about Mordor, and that meant nothing to me. I didn't even know how we were getting there. Horse? Carriage? Flying... um, Elf? I sighed, shut my eyes, and floated for a few minutes more before grabbing the soap.

Clothing turned out to be leggings, a shirt, and a tunic that probably went over the shirt. It was still feminine enough, there was some kind of embroidery, dragonflies and fish, but it was subtle. And it fit properly. Belt. Belt had some kind of loop or hook that was empty. Was that for a sword? Oh man, this was getting serious.

Boots didn't fit that well though, my feet were too wide, and I left them behind.

I found my way down to the three men, a pretty straightforward staircase and path, and came out to the sound of 'clunk' as Gimli, who must have appeared, sank his axe into a target the rough height and size of an elf.

"You're here." Aragorn called. He gestured to an arragement of weapons. "Choose."

Sword, sword, small sword, big sword, axe, bow, um... another bow. Another bow. More swords. They kind of looked the same to me. I glanced at Aragorn for a hint, then to Boromir, avoiding Legolas' eyes as memories of our last encounter flooded my head. What had I been thinking? Or him? Stupid Elvish wine. It'd practically made me orgasam with two mouthfuls. Should have known it was bad news the second it'd done that.

"Well?" Aragorn prompted.

"Um." I went for a smaller one. The second I had the sword in hand, I caught some kind of flash, and suddenly I was sent flying back, sword flying out of hand, as Aragorn crashed into my blade with his one. I fell hard on my ass and caught Boromir snickering. Stupid old fashioned dancer. I stared around for the blade, as Aragorn approached, his sword up.

He'd shattered the stupid thing with one blow. It lay in pieces and I had a bleeding hand where part of it must have cut into me. Aragorn came closer, and closer and... held out a hand. I got up, cringing as my sore bum protested.

"War is no place for a woman." Boromir muttered, shaking his head, turning back to his training pole thing.

"And rose pink dresses are not clothing for a man." I retorted, scowling at his back, clad in a very pretty looking rose pink tunic that fell to his knees. He didn't turn around but he stiffened.

A hand on my uppar arm made me stiffen. Legolas stood there, somehow silently stepping in, his hand gently squeezing my arm. It took me a few moments to know what the hell the man... erm, elf... was doing with my arm. He stared at it thoughtfully. "There is muscle here."

Aragorn checked the other arm, though slower, checking me first for unspoken permission. I sighed and let him. He nodded thoughtfully and reached out for a different sword. "This is the length of your arm and narrower. You may move it easier."

If he said so. I lifted it and when he did a sudden 'Crash into your sword with mine' thing, this one at least held. Except that his blade slid down, very fast, nearly crashing into my hand. In fear I dropped it and backed right up into Mr. Pleadian Alien's toe.

"Do not fear the sword. This will protect your hand." Aragorn picked up my sword and touched the guard. I felt stupid. Of course it would. But he added, "But you move quickly."

"Very." Legolas agreed. I saw no hint of pain on his face but that must have hurt.

"Sorry about your toe." I muttered.

"Sorry about my behavior." He shifted closer, voice barely audiable, before moving back to where he'd leant a bow on the side. Legolas held it out. "Try this."

I picked it up. This felt better. I kind of felt awesome, no better way to describe it, as I pulled the string back to my ear. I kind of knew this action. I also remembered the physical sensation of my poor boob being squashed by rebounding wire, somehow, I half expected it. This would be a problem.

"That explains the muscles." Aragorn's smile appeared somewhat as he stared at me. "You must know a bow well to pull that one out."

"Why?" Okay- it was a bit tough to tug out, but it wasn't that bad. I released the tense wire again. When I was offered an arrow, a target some distance away, I re-drew, and suddenly changed my mind. I turned to Boromir, more confidant about this than anything in my life, and sunk an arrow in a tree just a foot from where he'd been standing. The guy almost peed his pants. I would have laughed but the string rebounded straight into my boob. Ow. Ow. Ow. Luckily, Legolas and Aragorn was too focused on Boromir to notice.

Boromir noticed. To my surprise, he neither laughed or got angry at me, but shook his head, turning his back back to me. Was that him saying he thought it was a fluke or … him saying he trusted me? God, the man had some mixed messages. I couldn't figure out if he was an arrogant jerk or a good guy who had a big ego.

"Because that bow is made for a man's arm." Aragorn shook his head slightly, meeting Legolas eyes, that smile there. "Not as big a problem as I suspected."

"What about the hobbits?" Legolas asked.

"I have seen them in battle. They are not skilled but have much energy. We need only instruct them a little, as we travel. Here." Aragorn held out the smaller sword for me. "Some more with this, and then we rest."

Some more turned out to be training through breakfast, which was fruit, and then for several more hours till it was almost lunch. Pippin happily informed me of this, of when meals were about ready, he and the other three hobbits wandered in and out. I wasn't sure about how good they'd be at fighting but no one seemed to expect them to train so … they were either really good, or it was the tall people and the dwarf who were expected to protect them.

By the time lunch rocked up, I was craving another wash, sweat pouring down me, breathing coming in quick deep gulps, cursing my love of cupcakes and sweet iced coffee. Funnily enough I was also craving these things and cursing Elves for loving fruit way too much.

Luckily after lunch, I was left alone, and got the afternoon to wander around on my own. Mostly it was around the room, a nap, staring out the window, watching people walk past. Elves, really, I didn't really see anyone else. I guessed the rest of the Fellowship was doing their preparation thing.

When I tried the bath again, I found it still steaming hot, and figured out how the hell that worked by checking underneath. There was a fire going, mostly coals now, and the bath was just on top of it. How the metal didn't get hot... I didn't know... but I had to admit my sweaty smelly body appreciated it.

I sat on the bed, staring out the window, legs warm under the covers as the chilly wind drifted past. It was surprisingly boring, doing nothing, and I stared around. It gave me time to think though.

When Legolas appeared, I had to admit I was expecting it, and he knocked, that controlled face still on.

"No Elvish wine?" I tried to joke and he shook his head, a trace of amusement there, but hidden so damn well.

"No. I came to appologise again. When Elves drink-" He sat down, slowly, leaving some good two feet between his leg and my legs in the bed. "-we tend to take pleasure in … well, each other. I am not so used to human needs of a woman."

"You accept I'm human then?"

"No. But you do not have memories." His answer kind of infurated me, really, because how different from his Elf chicks did I have to be? Legolas didn't give me much chance to respond because he added, "I have only met men. I learnt the ways of Dwarf. When I-" He shifted, slightly, and fixed his eyes on his hands. "If I, or any in the Fellowship, forget ourselves, you need but object and none will push. The sensitivity of a maiden must not be harmed."

I wasn't entirally sure I was a maiden, not after the way I'd felt last night after that wine, but I didn't correct him. Women probably got married before sex around here. Unless they were Elves, then they apparently got drunk and had orgies, or something like that. Made out. I sighed and saw him frown, somewhat.

"My lady?"

"Honestly, call me-" Um. What was my name again? "Wendy."

"Wenduin?" Legolas blinked. "You mean Wenduin, yes?"

"Yes. That's another way to say it." I kind of felt better about Wendy- it seemed easier to remember and I was sure I'd heard this name before somewhere.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"Not exactly. I still don't really know where we're going." I responded, honestly, and saw his spine straighten.

"A map. I will bring you the map. I will return." Legolas stood and vanished through the doorway, without another word. He returned within ten minutes and sat back down, spreading a cloth map out, shifting sideways to face me. "This is where we are. Here, close to where I found you. This is one path, and..."

And there, he pointed out several different routes, cities, and for the first time I felt like I kind of knew what the hell to expect. The map was kind of familiar somehow though.

He was strange like this, after I'd seen him all drunk and ...octupus handsy... this composed face. Voice. Kind of distant, cold, but not unfriendly. Just not the same as last night.

"So, that's where we're going?" I pointed at the area surrounded by an almost perfect square of mountains. "Only one way in? Or … over these mountains."

"They are inpassable. There may be others. I know none but Gandalf the Grey has much experience." Legolas shifted slightly in his seat, the only sign he was uncomfortable, adding, "This is not going to be a safe journey."

"Or a short one." If we were crossing right across this land.

"No." Legolas agreed.

We sat there quiet for a long time before, just for a moment, he smiled a little and pointed out a different area. A bunch of handdrawn trees.

"This is Mirkwood. This is my home."

"Is it beautiful?"

"Yes, in its own way." Legolas nodded slowly. "Though, not safe. There are dangers. The forest is sick in places. But I love it."

For a moment I saw it, that softness back in his face, that distant look in his eyes as if he could see his home through the ink drawn trees, as if he was back there. I had to admit I liked that side of him. The polish perfect alien Elf thing lessened somewhat.

He reached for his chest, almost unconsciously, fingering something. I saw it. A silver leaf, delicate, with a flat light green space where small shapes were drawn into the green ...stone? It was large, long, caught the light easily.

"Is that from Mirkwood?"

Legolas glanced down at it and then to me. He shook his head. "No. This..." He hesitated. Lifted it and slid it down the front of his shirt. "Is from a woman."

A woman? Had to be the one he'd … that stupid name he'd murmered. I suddenly felt the old resentment come back from last night. An Elf woman, most likely, and probably very open to the idea of him sleeping with others. Still, that wasn't what I was into, whatever I did or didn't remember.

"It's pretty." I muttered. For a moment longer we sat there. Then smething did occar to me. "Hey, what haappened to the bike?"

"The ...what?"

I described it as best I could. "Wheels, long, narorw metal..."

"Oh. Objects found with you are in there." Legolas pointed at something. A cabniet I hadn't opened. Honestly, I hadn't opened anything in here, it didn't feel like it was the right thing to do. He stood up and went to it, opening it, the bike there with it. "What is this for?"

"For riding. Like a horse, but ...well, it doesn't need feeding. I bought it because-" Something came back to me as I spoke. I rememberd it, Christmas, shopping, anxiety. It was my christmas present to myself. I was determined to loose weight. "I bought it because I wanted to loose weight."

"Why?" Legolas turned to me, staring at me, honestly looking surprised.

"You know. Because it's... better?" I stood up slowly, wandering over to the closet, bare feet cold on the tiled ground. I lifted the bike up from where it'd been stored and checked it. There were dents all over the metal but nothing serious looking. "Looks like someone bashed it."

"You remember buying it?"

"Yeah. I remember that." I could picture it so easily. Walking around the shopping centre, arms aching from carrying heavy bags full of presents I meant to wrap and post, trying to do exercise by refusing to use a shopping trolley. I'd been doing it for ages, I thought, but I couldn't remember much else. Just this ...this hour. "I was buying presents for people. I was going to wrap them and post them."

"What is ...post?"

"Send them. I lived far away from my family. I was sending presents to everyone." I couldn't quite remember who though. Family, kids, I just couldn't remember who. I went to the closet and took objects out. Some of them I knew, a water stained box with a kid's teddy inside, looking pretty saggy and tired. Who was this for? Legolas took it as I went for the next item, a book, also water stained.

"Everything's gotten wet." I muttered.

"Lord Elrond dried it. Is this a bear?" Legolas stared at the bright green teddy in the box, holding it up, confused.

"Yeah. A teddy."

A squeak from the teddy made Legolas openly flinch, dropping it, suddenly with a knife in his hand as he narrowed his eyes at it.

"Relax, it's just a toy. See?" I bent down, taking the teddy out of the ruined cardboard, and squeezed the tummy. It squeaked again, little plastic eyes lighting up, making Legolas step backwards.

"It is posessed."

"It's not posessed. It lights up. Squeaks. It's a children's toy." I had a sudden idea, and with a grin, flung the teddy at him the second I'd squeezed it. He had shoved it back with lightning reflexes, still staring at it with his frown, clearly still uncertain.

Other objects. Crystals. I lifted the bag of crystals up. It was another present for myself, these things, and I felt kind of relieved to find them. I smiled as I held them up to the light, the heavy bag of semi-precious gems glinting. Amythist, Labordorite, moonstone, a little garnet, a quartz point, cytrine... amongst others. None were missing either. "I bought these for me too."

"Jewels." Legolas left the teddy where it lay and stepped closer. "You wore many."

"Did I? Where are they?"

"Here." Legolas went for a wooden box I did not reconie and opened it. A few rings, a few necklaces, beads, he lifted them out carefully and held them out. More crystals. "More jewels. Some I do not know."

"Um, yeah." I did kind of recognise them. Not as much as I did the objects though. I took them and fingered them. So many crysals. Why did I have so many? Maybe some were going to be presents. Maybe I'd worn them to keep them safe. Or maybe I liked jewellery. I had to admit, I hadn't minded being bejewelled last night for the feast, _that_ had been great fun.

We explored the objects a little longer, some of them not mine, but trash. Plastic bottle. Pieces of glass in a basket, a lot of them, and Legolas reached down to pick it up.

"I would like to use these pieces, if you've got no use, my sister would love these."

"Broken glass? For what?"

"Glass is costly and difficult to make of such quality, even for Elves." Legolas fingered the broken pieces with a kind of affection I couldn't feel. Seriously. They were just broken bottles and stuff. "Some are very fine. This-" He held up a large shard, almost as long as his arm, and turned it. One side of it was tinted. "-is not something I have seen before."

"What are you two doing?" Pippin wandered in at that, nearly into the glass, blinking as Legolas was quick to pull him backwards. "Wh... is that glass?"

"What's the big deal?"

"It's thin. Really fine." Pippin seemed almost in awe by it too.

"I think it's from a car window." It didn't seem that special to me, not really, but then how much glass had I seen around here? Nothing, really, not even a glass jug. "Is glass special here?"

"It is a closely guarded craft." Legolas lowered it so carefully.

"Well, you can have it. What would your sister do with it?"

"She has long wanted another window, but my father has refused, for fear of spiders or orcs capturing her. This glass can be crafted into artwork for a window of metal and glass." Legolas stood up. He had that soft look in his face again, the same one he had in his eyes when he'd talked about Mirkwood. "I can send it home with my friend."

Pippin picked up the teddy and grinned at it, holding it up, squeezing it. The squeak didn't frighten him and he didn't seem the least bit worried about the glowing eyes. "What's this?"

"A child's toy from Wenduin's world." Legolas replied as he glanced back at the teddy. He clearly was more interested in the glass shards than the teddy but Pippin seemed to be amused by it, squeezing again and again, holding it up.

"How does it work?" He asked lightly.

Merry's voice called and Pippin blinked, staring back, calling, "In Wendy's room, Merry!"

"What you doing in there again?"

"She's got toys!"

Merry appeared pretty fast, at a half run, and the green teddy was shoved in his face. He grinned at it. "It's a bear!"

"Feel how soft it is, Merry, and look!" Pippin squeezed it again, grinning, as the squeak and glow reappeared.

Merry reached out to touch it, wonder in his face, no trace of fear. He touched it. "It's glowing."

"Told you she's an elf."

Oh god, here we went again, and this time it wasn't Legolas. Legolas almost looked smug, almost, but maybe that was just my projection onto him again. He stood there, arms across his chest, something in his hand. A book?

"Pip, Frodo's looking for us. He has food."

That got Pippin's attention. He turned to me, "See you tomorrow!" and vanished with the green teddy still in hand. Maybe he was just a child. Sometimes I wondered.

I expected Legolas to go too but he didn't. He turned, heading for that storage space, hands reaching out for the bike. Slowly, eyes on it, he ran his hands over it.

"What?"

"It's well made. I do not know the metal."

Oh man, this again. There was a lot he didn't know. I was tempted to say this but instead, I decided to show him, the silly room was big enough for a circle or two. Legolas backed off as I went closer, watching me, raising an eyebrow as I got on.

A few laps, and I stared back at him, half hoping to see him gape or something. Nope. Perfect expression. A mild sense of curiosity, maybe, but nothing more. "Like a horse." He said softly, thoughtfully, reaching out to take the handles.

"Yes. See?"

"I will try this." Legolas didn't ask. The second I was off it, he tried, and ...fell straight over sideways.

I wished I could have said he'd lost his perfect hair or something but … he looked as good as ever, even on his side, with a yellow bike between his leggings.

"Balance. You need to move to balance it."

Legolas stood up, not even with a trace of awkwardness, and started again. This time he got it, so fast, that I felt a tinge of envy. How did Elves do everything so well?

"This is... not something I have heard of." Legolas finally stopped, sliding sideways off it easily, and stood up. "Will you bring it?"

I suddenly wondered how good an idea that'd be. I didn't really have much experience on it, except for ...well, except for straight sealed sidewalks, and that was mostly when I'd been a kid. This bike idea had been an impulse thing after I'd seen my own reflection. "I... I guess. But are you riding?"

"Not that I think...?" There we go, I wanted to say, no. Still I couldn't quite say no. Would that be weird? To take a bike? Probably. "I don't know it'd work. Really. Mountains."

"Yes, without a horse, these wheels..." Legolas said softly. He stood up suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. "I must go. I will see you in the morning."

"Not going to be at dinner?" I asked, before I could think, and flushed somewhat as his eyes caught mine.

"We eat alone tonight and prepare. I will see you in the morning, before the sun rises."

I was woken early the next day by my friendly pair of maids. Healers. Whatever they were. Dazed, sleepy and a little confused, I found myself wandered into one last bath. This one had a _strong _fragrance. I sat in it, half asleep, as they wandered around with fabrics. Objects. It took me ten or more minutes before I really got what these things were, and another five minutes before I started to care about the fact that I was naked in a bath with a couple of Elven women with perfect bodies wandering around me.

"Do you want these?" They were holding the bag of crystals up, and the jewellery, and I stared at it.

"Um. I guess so."

I tried to cover myself with bubbles and flowers as they walked around, dropping some stiff fabric stuff on the bench nearby, or in a small pack. A very small pack. How much stuff could they really put in there?

"My Lady. It's time."

I got up slowly, grabbing for the fabric, only to get surrounded the second I was out of the bath. Some kind of underwear thing. Sheer Leggings that clung to my legs much more than I really liked and that covered my feet as well. Cotton shirt. What surprised me though was what came next, some kind of thin leather thing, something that squashed boobs down to half their size. Then, a tunic, which was also kind of stiff around the chest.

"What's this?"

"Armour, light."

It was a little heavy, I noticed, but it wasn't that bad. I flexed my body slowly as I stared at it. I could move pretty much as good as ever in this stuff.

The blonde Elf woman, Maid B, smiled somewhat. "Elven armour is designed to allow the body to move. Lift a leg."

I stared down and saw a second pair of leggings. Stiffer. Thicker?

"More armor?"

"No, but protective."

The leggings were helped on, not that I really needed it with the flexibility of the chest stuff, and they covered the sheer ones beautifully. Wool maybe? Dark grey. Boots were offered and I hesitated.

"The last didn't fit..." I muttered.

"We know. We measured your feet when you slept last night." Maid A shoved one on my foot, quickly,

_What_! A tunic was shoved over my head, the sides laced up, a light brown that had light blue scrolling along the edges. It was pretty but kind of rough, the fabric more tough than pretty, and I noticed the fabric was kind of slippery. "Waterproofed?" I guessed.

"Yes." Arms up.

I blinked, I'd thought that'd been it, but no. Something else was dropped over my head and there was something strapped...

"What's this?"

"To protect your chest from the bow. And this," A belt was looped over the tunic, "Is for the sword."

I was starting to feel heavy now. Everything felt thick, kind of warm, and I had this bad feeling that after a day of walking I'd reek. Damn. Stop complaining! This was special! Hadn't Boromir said there was only supposed to be nine? Even more was put on, long thin tube things around my wrists, a thicker leather again. To protect my wrists? Um, okay.

"Um, so..." I said softly. "Thanks. For helping."

"It's our duty."

Oh, okay. Something over my shoulder got my attention. It was long and it had arrows. Oh, it was a quiver. Something heavy was dropped on my hip, just as the sun burst into the room, covering us in golden light. My sword glinted up at me. My sword! Wow. I gaped down at it.

This was really happening.

"Wenduin, here." A strap was offered to me. Before I knew it, something else was on my back, and I felt something near it. One more quick glance over my shoulder confirmed it was the pack and the bow.

"If you need the bow, simply tug it, it will come free."

A necklace was dropped over my head. It was made from one of the crystals, amethyst, and I fingered the pretty little silver chain. Had it had a chain last night? I didn't think so.

"We had it created into a necklace for you." Maid B smiled a little. "To stay safe."

It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't know their names yet, these maid women, but just as I opened my mouth to ask...

I was being led forward. Out the door, where Gandalf was waiting, leaning somewhat on his staff.

"It's time." He smiled, holding his arm out, and glanced back. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry were close behind, all of them dressed and ready as well. "Come."


	2. Off we go

Deja vu. Major Deja vu.

I stared around, yawning, occasionally flexing arm or leg. I just couldn't get over this 'leather armour' thing. Around me, Elves were gathering, and somehow today I was a little less dazzled. Only a little less. Elves were Elves.

It did help that the dwarfs were also there, I thought quietly, shifting once more in the boots. Nice. Comfortable boots. Sexy boots. Well, okay, not sexy. But comfortable. Once more my eyes went from the dwarfs, gathered in a semi-sheltered area, to the Elves, and saw that they were visually separated from one another. Neither seemed to want to spend too much time with the other. In fact, I noticed as my eyes went past the Dwarfs, they were all packed and ready to go.

Must have only been here to farewell Gimli.

Frodo stood a little separate from the others, uncomfortable, back in those clean linen things. None of the hobbits in fact, I noticed, were really wearing any sort of armour. Swords, yes, but nothing else. Only the big strong men were bothering at all- both Aragorn and Boromir had the chainmail stuff under their shirts. And out of those two, only Boromir had good looking fabric, the kind of stuff I suspected belonged on someone with a lot of money. Did that mean he was rich? Aragorn, who was supposed to be some high lord or something, just had plain clothing. It was almost rougher than the hobbit's simple clothing. Older, clearly, with patches and some repaired tears. Funny outfit for someone who was supposed to be special.

Come to think of it... I didn't really know a lot about any of them, except for Legolas.

I gazed upwards, tucking my hands under my armpits, admiring for one last time the beauty of this place. Oh sure, I'd made fun of it and the elves but... the stone arch, the way the creepers grew across it, the trees healthy and without a mark on them, no illness, nothing.. as if the Elves had created this place in partnership with the trees, and the birds, and the animals, creating a safe place for all things to grow.

That was probably impossible, really, but it looked that way.

Lord Elrond moved out slowly, a smaller gathering of women not far behind, one of them with her eyes fixed on Aragorn. That was interesting. I had no time to ponder this, however, because Lord Elrond had started to talk.

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will."

His eyes scanned over everyone at this, I knew that, but somehow I felt this was directed to her quite a bit. I hoped. Some part of me was still uncertain about this. Still not sure about it... apprehension dogged at the back of my mind, like I already knew how fucking tough it'd be, even though it currently just sounded like a hike past a few baddies, to drop a ring into some lava.

I couldn't even understand why the ring had to be destroyed. I tried to look brave, fearless, swallowing, tempted to say 'Hey, actually...'

"Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you." Lord Elrond waved his arms at us, dismissing us or something. I caught the movement beside her- Aragorn and Legolas bowing their heads, and suddenly wondered if this was something I should do. Curtsy or something. The moment had passed though.

Gandalf said softly, "The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer."

Frodo turned slowly, uncertainly, and so I took the cue and turned too. Did he know where 12 were going? I hoped so. But I suddenly felt kind of sorry for him, especially when I heard him whisper to Gandalf for directions.

The sense of deja vu held for a long time, right until they were up on the hill beside Rivendell, and I glanced backwards the second I felt the feeling of 'been here, done this' vanished.

Suddenly, I didn't know what the fuck to expect.

Suddenly, this was just an open road, a destination that was just ink and paper to her, a ring that meant nothing tp her, and a bunch of strange men. Elves. Dwarf. Hobbits. A bunch of people I barely knew.

"You will return." Legolas offered.

I nodded, faintly, and returned to walking behind the pony's bum. Bit her lip and wandered on, holding back the urge to ...what? Go back to Rivendell? Somehow, I knew I wouldn't be able to, even if I wanted to.

Besides, from now on, I had to be able to take care of herself. The last thing I wanted them to think was that I needed their protection. Clearly the only person who should be protected was Frodo. I didn't want to be a thorn in the quest. Or something like that.

Walking turned out to be not so much fun. I wasn't physically fit and never had I felt it so much as right now, after two hours of walking, three hours, up and down hills. I felt so subconcious, so self-aware of her own physical limitations compared to the others, that everytime someone glanced at her, I felt her cheeks go red.

Still, the longer it dragged out, the less dangerous it felt like. The sword on her hip started to gain weight. Her legs ached. Her back ached. Her knees screamed. A little river of sweat ran down her spine.

And it was just the first day.

It was mentally exhausting too. I trudged after the others, trying to find something to do, something to entertain herself with. Pippin and Merry, at least, kind of provided some help there. They didn't enjoy the long boring walk thing either. More often than not, I'd catch them trying to trip each other, or steal food from Aragorn's pack. They were pretty good at that.

Slowly, the forests beside the road became bare, and the higher they went up the hills, the less of the lush beauty of Rivendell could be seen. Soon it was only dry forest, no rivers in sight, and they started up hill.

And up hill.

And more up the hills.

I was already exhausted. And it wasn't even lunch yet.

By the time lunch came, I was buggered, and I flopped down next to Pippin and Merry, who looked equally exhausted. Lunch? Some bread. Then suddenly they were walking again.

Legolas just walked like he had gotten up. Aragorn? Boromir? Just as bad, though at least they weren't springing from rock to rock like a fucking goat, they were at least looking like they had weight. Gimili walked beside I as the afternoon wore on, panting a little, hand on his axe as he used it as a staff.

"Here." He said, very suddenly, and suddenly he'd slammed his axe down on something. The sudden sound made the hobbits flinch, as Gimli held something up for I. For the first time I really met his eyes and … he looked pretty nice, actually. "This will help."

I took the walking stick gratefully. He was pretty thick bodied too. I met Boromir's eyes, half expecting him to say something, but he just turned and continued on. Softly, I asked, "Is this all uphill from here?" The sentence was difficult- I panted a little, but Gimli nodded.

Bugger. The walking stick did help, the glove things protecting her hand from the rough wood, and I trudged on. I stank. Luckily- everyone did. No one seemed to have their pretty bath scents anymore. Only Legolas was the exception, as usual, only he seemed to be still springy and energetic by the end of the day. Her feet started to ache big time as I felt blisters grow underneath her feet. Luckily, this didn't seem to be just her, because all four of the hobbits seemed to be having issues as well, and all four of them had to deal with bare feet on rough ground.

As the afternoon dragged on, I gritted her teeth, but I couldn't deny that I was slowing down the group. Even the hobbits were doing better, more or less, except for poor Merry who seemed to have a nasty blister right on the edge of his heel, and when I'd caught sight of it, it looked like it'd popped already.

Ow.

The end of the day did not come fast enough.

It was well after dark before Gandalf decided it was time to stop and set up camp. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry all looked as tired as I felt.

"Two months in Rivendel, it's no wonder we're tired." Sam exclaimed, flopping down beside Frodo, as Pippin collapsed beside him.

"You were there two months?" I didn't even have the energy to sit, not yet, I stood there numbly, leaning against her stick. The pack was so bloody heavy- I was worried that if I tried to take it off, I'd fall over backwards.

"Two wonderful months." Pippin leaned back, shut his eyes, only to be nudged in the side by Gandalf. "What?"

"You, Boromir and Aragorn are looking for firewood." Gandalf informed him. He may have as well said that Pippin would now be on a diet- the little man looked devastated by this news. "Go!"

Pippin got up, slowly, and trailed after Aragorn.

I finally managed to sit down, slowly, sliding the pack off once I was safely close enough to the ground. Everything hurt. Everything. Blisters, aches, muscles, and what I would have done right now for a hot bath. How much longer till they stopped going uphill, anyway?

"Some three day's walk." Gandalf answered her, before I could open her mouth, as he sat down on her other side. He took out a pipe and started to stuff something into the tip. "Have you had any visions?"

"No." Honestly, I'd had enough trouble breathing, why would I worry about visions? I shut her eyes again.

A warmth made her open them. I blinked. A fire? Had I fallen asleep? Someone was kneeling in front of her. Boromir?

"Wenduin, do your feet hurt?" He asked, very softly, dropping wood to one side.

Wow, this was another side to him, because he actually looked like he cared. I blinked at him as he went to take one of her boots off. I tugged it back by reflex. "Um, not so bad."

"Forgive me, for my actions at the feast." He leaned back, glancing as Gandalf looked at him, slightly sheepish. "The drink made me a fool. But your feet- if they are aided now, if I show you and the hobbits, you five may walk easier tomorrow."

I suddenly got it. Easier and faster. I had started to slow quite a bit as the hike dragged on over the afternoon, partly because of her aching legs, back, and even bum, but mostly because her feet had started to hurt.

"And," Boromir added, glancing at Sam's dirty feet, "Your feet may be nicer to touch during the lesson."

Okay, was that out of line? I wasn't sure. But I couldn't blame him for thinking that was true- four hairy dirty hobbit feet or her sweaty but more or less clean feet. Sort of.

"Let him." Gandalf suggested softly, breathing in a lungful of smoke, leaning back as he shut his eyes. "So that we may walk at a good pace."

Oh, yeah. I was already overweight and unfit. I nodded a stiff nod, cheeks reddening slightly, wishing like hell I didn't feel like I was holding the Fellowship back with her slower speed.

"They'll smell." I warned him as Boromir took the boot and gave a hard tug.

"No more than any other feet." Boromir replied. He didn't even blink at the stench from her feet, dropping the boot to one side, and tugged the other one off. He gazed down at the blisters. "You have done well."

He made it sound like I'd won a race, somehow, like he was almost impressed. I stared at the various large lumps and red spots. One was already on the verge of being white. Others were starting to like the idea.

Aragorn returned and started to stack wood, Pippin wandering behind him with a clear limp, a less impressive bundle in his arms. Pippin came to sit beside them as Boromir lifted one of I's feet.

"So what are you going to do?"

"We let the feet dry." Boromir explained, glancing back at Aragorn, who threw a small bag of something at him. "And, if there is a white part, we drain it carefully and wash it with hot water."

Legolas was watching too, I realised, with open curiosity. His feet were clearly perfect. I had a mad urge and stuck her tongue out at him, making him blink and look away.

"Then," Boromir glanced from I to Legolas, blinking, "I will wrap it when it is dry. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry, you help each other."

"Do you have any?" I muttered as I watched Boromir run a rough cloth over her feet, cringing somewhat, half expecting him to say no.

"All of us do." Boromir didn't even look up as he started on her feet. "We have all been less active. It will take some days before our feet remember how to walk again."

"Except for the elf." Gimli muttered. He was tugging his boots off too, a stench far better than mine filling the air, and he threw them to one side. He too had blisters, to my relief, and a bad smell to go with.

The crack-crack-crack of a flame suddenly came from where Aragorn knelt, a tiny blaze in a pile of thin twigs happily taking hold of the wood, and Aragorn carefully arranged larger twigs and bits over the small flame. It looked like it'd be a nice big fire.

"We will not risk a fire such as the one tonight, once we leave the safety of Rivendell's outer borders. Take advantage of it." Aragorn was mostly speaking to Sam, I realised, he'd held out a frying pan to Sam who was eagerly standing up. "Tonight and tomorrow are the only nights we have a fire such as this."

'Such as this' was clearly turning into a very hot very bright fire, dry wood catching easily, Aragorn dropping a few logs over the still steady thicker branches.

"Yes, Sir, Mister Strider." Sam went straight for the flame and started to throw stuff into the frying pan. By his tone, I half wondered if he'd made a joke there, like he was teasing Aragorn about something. Maybe not. Frodo, I noticed, was sitting slightly apart again.

He caught me staring at him and his gaze went sideways pretty fast. Out of all of us, he might have seen the most tired, but he was pretty alert apparently.

Boromir surprised me by picking up one of my feet once more, I flinched as his hand got a sore spot, and he glanced up.

"Sorry."

"You say that a lot." I muttered.

"To you, it seems so, yes." Boromir agreed. He glanced at the others, at Aragorn in particular, as if he was tempted to add something else. Instead he just went back to the foot. "Hobbits, pay attention."

With my foot in hand, Boromir instructed them on 'propar blister care', and I sat there bluntly as my foot was gawked at. I had a tattoo on it, a little green fairy, which naturally became far more interesting to them than the blisters themselves.

"What's that?"

"Think that's a tattoo. But what's a lady got one for?" Merry stared at it and then at me. Maybe he was starting to think I wasn't a lady. I wasn't sure.

"It's a fairy." I instructed them. A little fairy. Tinkerbell. I blinked, as the story kind of dropped into my head, and added, "She's Peter Pan's fairy."

"Who?"

"It's a story. A child's story from … um. My land." I wasn't sure how else to put it. I didn't have much memory back yet and what I did know, mostly general stuff, did not fit this world at all. This world was like some alternative universe.

"A story! Can we hear it?" Pip shifted closer. There it was- that childish look in his face again. I actually felt myself smiling.

Boromir's eyes were fixated on me, suddenly, on my lips. He blinked as our eyes met and he glanced at the foot still held gently in his callosed hands. I had to admit, I had a sudden wonder about those hands, hands on thighs...

And Legolas's hands, smooth, and, his graceful strength...

Oh god, I really had turned into some kind of whore.

"After the lesson." Gandalf interrupted, softly, a warm smile on his face as he gazed at the hobbits. "Let Boromir teach you."

Boromir returned to it, using a sharp needle to pierce the white blister, hot water to clean the foot, clean fine fabric. He instructed them to wash it nightly, to dry it out, and to re-use it... we didn't have towns along the way to replace these things.

A simple meal of half a tomato, which was little and a bit bruised, some bacon, and some kind of mushroom, was offered around and we sat around eating, slowly, gazing into the stars above.

"I'll take first watch." Gandalf offered, as we wound down, the old man surprisingly the most concious out of the lot of us. I was increasingly starting to wonder what HE was. Human? Elf? Something else?

"Okay." Merry was already lying back on something. I blinked and remmebered. Oh yeah. I had a mat and a blanket of my own.

When I turned around, I saw they were already out, Legolas glancing up.

"You rest tonight. We don't need you to keep watch this night."

"You sure?" My words kind of slipped out before I could draw them back. Some part of me was happy with this. The other part didn't like the idea of being a ...useless ...member of this team.

"You have not the ears, the eyes or the hearing ready for such a responsibility." Legolas gestured to my 'bed' once more. I knew he was being practical but ...okay, that had kind of stung a little. I frowned and he frowned a fraction at my reaction. His eyes darted to my covered ears for a second as he asked softer, "Do you?"

"No." I admitted. Not that I was aware of. In fact, I suspected I'd fall asleep if I tried. "No, I don't think so."

"Rest, Wenduin." Boromir placed his hand on my shoulder. "Tell the little ones your story about Peter."

"Hey, we're grown men, you know." Sam protested from where he was already curled up. It wouldn't have been obvious right now- Sam, Frodo and Merry were already under blankets, curly haired heads poking out, Pippin halfway into his blanket.

"Your children must be adorable." I muttered. I could almost picture them. Tiny things with masses of curls and big eyes. Slowly I climbed into bed, careful, and tried to tuck the blanket in around my sides. It wasn't as cold a night tonight as it had been the night before, not exactly, and the fire helped.

"What is the story?" Pippin asked.

"Um. Okay." I tried to think. How did it go? I kind of remembered it. "Once in a city called London-"

"What does London look like?" That was Pippin again, and I heard him scrape over, until he was just half a foot away from my head. The other hobbits weren't far.

"It is-" I paused. Tried to think. "A very large city, larger than Rivendell, larger than any city you've ever seen. There are great buildings made of white metal, red brick and black glass ten times bigger than the tallest tree you've ever seen, a palace twice the length and three times the height of Rivendell-"

"-Right down to the river?"

"Right down to the river even." I agreed. Okay. Maybe this wasn't totally accurate. But I had their attention. "There's a river that runs through it."

"Is it an Elven city?" Merry piped up.

"No, it's a human city." I heard Gimli snort a little at that and decided to ignore it. Even Legolas seemed to roll his eyes... though, I suspected, that was a trick of the light. "So, in this giant city, there is a family that lives there. Mrs Darling, Mr. Darling, their three children, Wendy, John and Michael, and their dog, Nanny. All three children shared a nursery together with the dog, Wendy was the oldest, then John who loved to study bugs and nature, and then Michael, who was the baby of the family. Every night Wendy would tell them a story-"

"Like you are." Pippin offered.

"Yeah. Like me. She'd tell them a story about Peter Pan and his adventures. Sometimes she was sure she saw a shadow at their window, three stories above the ground where no person could get to, but when she went to the window she never saw anyone. One day, Wendy, John and Michael's aunt came to visit from far away and to watch the children while their parents went to a party."

"Does the party have fireworks?"

"No, it just has a bunch of adults standing around talking about work. Mr Darling didn't want to go but he had to. His boss was going to be there and he needed to get a promotion at work."

"What's that?" Pippin asked again. He was wide awake, turned towards me, watching me with wide eyed interest. "A promotion? Is it good?"

"It means he gets more responsibility and gets paid better." I explained.

He frowned at that. "Is that all?"

"Well," I made up quickly, "They were having a hard time. They weren't earning enough to feed all three children. So Mr Darling needed a little more money to feed all his children in this giant city. So it was important. Anyway-"

"Oh, I see." Pippin nodded in the light of the fire. He slid up a little, resting his head on his hand, watching me.

"Why didn't he just have a garden?" Sam cut in before I could continue. "So he could feed them?"

"Well, in a big city like that, there's not many plants. Just a lot of buildings close together. There's no room for a garden where he lives."

"There's not many plants in your world?" It was Legolas who's turn it was to inturrupt. He stared at me.

"Well, there are, but not in cities. Cities are buildings, lots of stone paths, and roads, and buildings. There's some gardens in the cities though. In special areas."

"Sounds like a dwarven city." Gimli spoke up.

"Interesting." Legolas must not have been impressed by this. He didn't sound it. He shifted down to lay on my other side, to my surprise, gazing up. He didn't sound impressed, just interested.

"Hey, there are still forests. In protected areas." I protested. Then again, I realised, there was less and less of them. Our entire fucking enviroment was collapsing around our great 'metal and glass' cities. I swallowed it away and tried to continue. "Wendy's aunt, an older lady, stayed there with them. That night, just as they were getting ready for the party, Wendy's aunt took her aside into a room with her parents and said that Wendy was getting too old to share a nursery with her brothers anymore, that she couldn't tell childish stories anymore, and she had to start behaving like a lady and not like a little boy."

"A bedroom, right?" Sam offered.

"Right." I nodded. "John and Michael were listening in at the door and were upset, and so was Wendy, and even her parents were surprised. So they went to their party, and all three children had to go to bed, knowing it was their last night for a story, their last night in the same room together. Wendy unlocked the window and told them about Peter Pan one last time before they went to bed. She told them she'd found the dog with something strange earlier. A shadow without a body. And when they were asleep she pretended to go to sleep too, waiting to see if the owner of the shadow would come back for it. No person could climb up that high-"

"Elves can." Legolas muttered softly.

"I bet I could too." Pippin agreed.

"-but if someone flew in, like Peter Pan could, then she knew he'd try." I tried to ignore this. "Wendy had just fallen asleep when-"

"Wendy!" Pippin exclaimed. "Wenduin. Wendy! This is about you!"

Oh god. "No, it's not, it's..."

"It is. I know it is." Pippin shook his head.

"You did ask me to call you Wendy." Legolas said softly.

Oh bloody hell. I decided to ignore it. "Wendy woke to a funny sound. Crashing, banging, someone flying over her bed, opening things. There was a boy flying all over the room like a bird, trying to find something. Wendy sat up quickly and stared around. It wasn't her brothers that were saying that. It was a boy, wearing a tunic made of feathers, and a funny hat on his head that had a big rainbow feather on it. He was darting around the room, opening drawers as quietly as he could, a little glowing light following him around."

Now they had quietened. Sort of.

"What was he looking for?" Merry asked softly.

"That's what Wendy asked. She said, what are you looking for? She guessed but she asked anyway. And the little boy said, I lost my shadow, and I can't find it."

"His shadow!" Merry exclaimed. "How do you loose that?"

It was a good bloody question. One I didn't have an answer for. So I just continued, "So Wendy sat up and told him that she'd found his shadow. She took him to a drawer and out popped his shadow. Peter flew all over the place, knocking his Tinkerbell into a drawer without noticing, trying to catch the shadow. Finally he got hold of it."

"Tinkerbell?"

"Tinkerbell, his tiny fairy friend, who was the floating light beside him. She glowed a bright yellow green. She wasn't happy about being knocked in a drawer but Peter was busy trying to attach his shadow to his feet."

"The tattoo." Merry whispered to Pippin.

"Oooh. Did he get it back?" Pippin yawned a long deep yawn under his blanket.

"He couldn't get it to stay attached to his feet and it kept trying to get away, so he sat down and cried."

"Cried!" Boromir exclaimed softly.

"He missed it." I muttered. "Just a child. He missed his shadow and he couldn't get it to stick to him again. Anyway, Wendy felt sorry for him, so she said, I'll sew it back on for you."

I thought I heard Gandalf snort at that. Hadn't he heard about shadow sewing? Probably not. I continued, "Wendy had him sit down and she got a needle and thread. She sewed it back to his feet and he had his shadow again. He was so happy that he bounced all over the place. He said that their dog had grabbed his shadow while he was listening to Wendy's stories. She told him there'd be no more stories because she had to grow up and move into her own room. He offered to take her away to Neverland where she'd never have to grow up, and she said she would give him a kiss-"

"Why?"

"Because she was happy." Pippin explained, as if this was obvious. He sounded so sleepy.

The sleepier I got, the more I noticed and got irritated by the sticks and uneven ground under me. There wasn't much, maybe a twig, but ...

"Tinkerbell did not like this idea and grabbed Wendy, before she could kiss Peter. Peter chased her all over the room and this finally woke John and Michael, who leapt up. Peter offered to take all three of them. But how would they get to Neverland? They had to fly

But I was tired, and although I tried, I felt myself starting to mumble more and more, my eyes growing heavier.

"Why did she want to grow up?" Pippin yawned.

"She didn't, Pip, that's the point." Merry answered before I could find some energy to re-explain that part. "So they don't grow up in Neverland?"

"Never." Another long yawn, my eyes shut, and before I could continue, I had slipped away into well earned sleep, the warmth of the fire and the others nearby with me. For a few minutes, anyway, because Pippin's voice woke me up once more.

I rolled onto my stomach. It was much easier this way to relax.

"What's Neverland like?" Pippin sounded almost asleep.

"It's an island. There are Indians, um, I mean, great spiritual warriors." That was a good way to describe it... right? Come to think of it... I realised I'd probably have to explain everything there. They didn't grow up with these myths like I did. Did I? "And mermaids, women with the tail of a fish, and there are pygmies. Like hobbits but very short men. Pirates, men who sail the sea, seeking ships to attack for treasure, killing anyone in their way. Fairies, that look like Elves but are as big as my hand, fly on butterfly and dragonfly wings, and glow. Great lagoons filled with bright birds. Animals that talked. Crocodiles. Castles, labyrinths, mazes, swamps, jungle, forest, an island that had any adventure a child could dream of." As I spoke, I felt myself drifting off, head on arms. My words were slow, relaxed, with the sweet scent of Gandalf's pipe smoke dancing overhead. "The sky is filled with stars at night, and even at day, you see some stars."

"Where is it?"

"Another world, far away. Peter told Wendy it was the second star to the right, and straight on till morning." It was the last thing I managed to get out. I fell asleep, curled up on my stomach, eyes shut.

I was woken later that night by a gentle shake and a hand over my mouth, probably hours later, though It felt like just a few minute's sleep. Legolas was shaking me awake, bent over, his face barely viable in the dark night. The fire was lower, cooler, just casting enough light for me to see a faint frown on Legolas' face.

"Keep watch with me." He said softly.

Oh, okay. That was a surprise. I blinked sleepily up at him, yawned, and muttered, "Didn't you promise me a night's sleep?"

He didn't answer or move. Just knelt there waiting. I frowned and slowly sat up, wondering if this was some kind of dream or something, but the ache in my muscles made it pretty clear that it was real.

We didn't go far, just ten or so meters from the campsite, and Legolas easily scaled a tree. He held down a hand as I awkwardly followed up after him. It wasn't that bad, there were branches, but I wasn't a monkey either.

I sat down, aching bum on aching branch, a little confused and sleepy. "So, you wanted me..."

"That story. Was that yours?"

I blinked at him as he sat there. His words, although spoken softly, kind of sounded loud suddenly. Instead of answering, I tried to 'keep watch', gazing out into the darkness. I couldn't really see anything.

"Wenduin. Wendy. You asked me to call you Wendy."

"It's not my story. It's not even real." I muttered. Something about this irritated me. What was it? Was it because I wasn't really sure anymore? Some part of me thought it was just a story. But then, some part of me wasn't so convinced anymore.

"Do you remember that?"

I scowled at his quiet question. Legolas, when I looked sideways, was looking back out over the land. Wind was playing with his long hair, his eyes staring into the darkness as if he could see every leaf, every twig, every blade of grass. The moon, not quite full, cast an errie light onto him and he almost looked like he was glowing.

He looked alien once more. Alien, beautiful, surreal. I felt gritty, earthy, organic, and he looked like he was from the Moon.

I had to admit, he was slightly good looking.

"Anyway, why does it matter? I can't fly. I don't know how to get to Neverland. I'm here." I muttered, tearing my eyes away from the Elf, back towards the darkness. A movement made me stiffen, but his hand came to rest on mine, squeezing it.

"Just an owl." He said softly. A moment later I saw it clearly too- a snowy bird, swooping gently across the grass, and back out of sight again. Legolas glanced sideways at me. "Is there really a place such as the city you described?"

"London? Yeah. I know that's real."

Legolas didn't speak for a long time. Then, finally, "How can you bear it? How can you live in that?"

"I don't know. Like I said. There's gardens. I can't remember what it was like where I lived. I just remember small things, other cities, other places. I just can't tell you anything about my life." The little girl popped into my thoughts again. Was she my daughter? Niece? Something important? "I don't even know if that girl is my family."

"Did Lord Elrond not tell you? She is not. She has memories of her own family." Legolas replied, sounding somewhat surprised now. He paused, his hand tighning on mine, which reminded me that he hadn't let go. Oh. That was nice.

"Oh, good." I'd have been a pretty pathetic mum- forgetting my own kid. Somewhat distracted, I didn't think about why he'd gone quiet and still, until he'd suddenly shot an arrow at something. I hadn't even seem him tug his bow out!

It was Pippin, sneaking up, looking like a startled bunny with an arrow at his feet. He had an apple in his mouth, hand still on it, eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked, a low warning in his voice, as Pippin dropped the apple back down into someone's pack.

"Just ...inspecting. The rations." Pippin stood up sheepishly. "I'll … be going back to sleep now."

"Wise idea, little one." Legolas didn't move until Pippin had crawled back into his bed.

I slipped out of the tree, slowly, and headed for my bed. I half expected Legolas to call me back, but he didn't, and I managed to crawl back into bed without any more questions.

This time when I slept, no one woke me, and I managed to sleep all the way through.

There were traces of deja vu over the next few days, sometimes, but usually there was just exhaustion. I ached. I stank. Blisters didn't care what Boromir had done- they were killing me. Pebbles turned into bolders under the boots. My legs ached. My back ached. Everything in me hurt.

Then, of course, I'd have to tell the story about Peter Pan when we'd sit down. Lunch, dinner, for the next few days, if I wasn't walking, I was talking. I dreamed of Peter Pan sometimes!

Still, there was moments of wonder too, like the ruins. They gave me a major sense of deja vu, those ruins, which we stopped to look at for a few minutes. According to Aragorn, they were the remains of an ancient kingdom of men, long gone now.

On top of that, Legolas kept giving me funny looks, especially when I mentioned stars or space. He tried to talk to me a few times about that but I generally avoided it, slipping away, falling asleep as fast as possible.

On the third day, I managed to finish the story, and I sat there exhausted.

"So, she never saw him again?"

"No." I muttered, standing slowly, aching from head to foot. I didn't know which was better. Standing or sitting. Okay, I wasn't the only one having a hard time. Even Aragorn looked exhausted and dirty.

He was standing with Boromir now, speaking quietly, Legolas some distance away gazing out into the darkness. Energiser bunny, that one. He stood on a bolder now, in the dark, the fading moon just barely picking up his light hair under a hood he'd slipped over it. Over the past few days the forest had vanished completely. We were now in larger grassy areas, bolders dotting the landscape, trees in small patches here and there. It was dry, quiet, and the weather had been sunny more or less. I'd noticed that the mountains drew closer, bit by bit, our path an endless uphill battle. Trees huddled around rivers, I guessed, from the way they were in windy patterns around us.

Right now, Aragorn had insisted that we keep things quiet, so the tiny 'safe' fire sheltered behind a very large pair of rocks. It barely caused any heat for the relief of aching muscles, to my dismay, but Sam had the bright idea of lining the fire with smaller flattish rocks.

"That way, we can use them in our beds." He'd explained brightly. It was a good idea.

"It's a warm night. Do you want a wash?" Boromir spoke up, his eyes in mine.

Did I! I'd sell my gemstone collection. Hell, I'd dreamed about dropping it, half convinced that it made my pocket heavier than it really was. Why had I packed it? Who knew. Maybe it wasn't the gemstones. I just knew that in the bottom of my bag was a small bag and it contained jingly things.

"Yeah, but there's no showers or baths out here." I muttered, eyes going over the darkening landscape.

"There is a river." Aragorn replied as he bent down to pick up a fairly heavy looking branch as thick as his wrist. With a sudden motion, he'd slammed the branch across his leg, snapping it in two with impressive strength. He repeated this, several times, and dropped them beside the fire. "Samwise, one branch, but not too soon. The fire must stay low."

"Yes, Strider." Sam replied.

"Can we have a swim?" Pippin spoke up.

"When Wenduin does, if she decides to."

Let's see, bath, or to stink. I wanted the swim. I could have drooled at the idea of clean washing water, seriously, even if it was a bit chilly. But... "No one's spying? Erm, I mean, keeping guard? I'd be alone?" I wanted to be alone.

"Legolas is able to listen for danger. Just call, and we'll come." Aragorn must have mistaken my questions for anxiety about swimming. It was the right answer though.

"Then I'll go swim." I stood up quickly.

"But I want to swim as well." Pippin muttered. He looked kind of annoyed.

"When she's done, we'll go in pairs. There's no need to sulk." Boromir threw something at Pippin. An apple? He was clearly learning how to bribe the hobbit. "I'll show you where it is."

"I will." Legolas said, from beside me, making me jump. He must have come back over when I wasn't looking.

I followed him quietly down to the river, through the dark, gazing around as I did. It was so dark, I skidded a little, I couldn't help it. I knew it was making a lot of noise, kept apologising, but he kept shrugging it off, guiding me with a touch of hand.

We came to a small river, almost small enough to jump across, and I watched Legolas back off quickly. Slowly I stripped off clothing, gazing at the river, and waded in, only wearing the shirt and the undergarment thing, deciding that I could wash them at the same time. Made sense to me. They stank badly.

It was cold. Wet. It was wonderful. The middle of the river, however narrow it was, was almost deep enough to reach my chin. I breathed out slowly, relaxed, and heard a twig crack.

Suddenly, I was blinded by water, as some heavy bodies bombarded the water around me. Panic flooded me and I opened my mouth to yell, only to receive a mouthful of water as something grabbed my ankles and dragged me under the water.

I thrashed and struggled, shoving a little hairy creature away, coming up spluttering as I saw Legolas coming at a run, bow out. He narrowed his eyes at whatever it was surfacing beside me, aimed and it vanished beneath the water again when the arrow went soaring overhead, smacking into the river on the other side.

"That's no way to treat your fellowship!" Pippin's voice protested from behind me, making me twist around, and he was slowly standing up from the water.

"Didn't we say, we'd swim out of sight of Wenduin?" Aragorn called. I blinked, turned, and saw the man wading slowly upstream thigh deep, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. They, like me, had apparently decided to wash clothing at the same time. More or less. Aragorn was holding his shirt in his hands, leggings on, and leggings in water didn't really leave much room for imagination.

Loud splashes blinded me, and another hobbit was bounding into the water, Sam not far behind him. There was laughter as Pippin, who apparently had gone back beneath the water, grabbed Sam's legs and dragged him in.

"Shh, we're -" Aragorn was cut off, as a small hairy body sprung up from the water, and knocked him clean back into the river, shirt going free. I grabbed it and flung it towards Legolas.

Legolas was undressing too.

Oh man.

I stared at him. Shirtless Legolas. Leggings. No imagination needed. I was suddenly thanking the cold water, because... wow. He caught my stare and I glanced away, blinking, face red. This was not helped as my glance went towards Aragorn, who was trying to pry hobbits off him, and Boromir not far behind.

Gandalf wasn't far off, either, though he wasn't in the water. He knelt beside it, ignoring us, washing himself from a little pool of water he'd dug out of the side of the river. I had to guess they trusted Legolas' ears enough to know if there was danger.

"Quiet!" Aragorn was hissing, but his face was betraying him, his mouth kept smiling even when he kept trying to look stern and serious.

"Look out!" Gimili called, breaking the quiet of the night, shoving past Legolas almost as he charged for the water. I suddenly saw it- how scary a dwarf could be- because when that man ran, he was scary. You wouldn't want him charging into you. He charged straight for me and I moved sideways, quickly, his stocky short body charging into the water with an allmighty splash.

Legolas, on the other hand, stayed slow and calm. I floated there, tugging my shirt down as it floated around my tummy, watching as he made his way slowly into the water.

"If you want to go somewhere more private..." Boromir was saying, to me, only to get dunked by Merry who pounced on his head from under the water.

"Upstream would be quieter." Aragorn finished for him. He smiled apologetically.

"It's okay." I think. I checked though, staring down, but was relieved to find that the fabric was at least not going see-through on me. A bit clingy, okay, but not see-through. As long as I stayed underwater...

Legolas waded in, slowly, the water reflecting the pale skin as the moon came out from behind clouds. I stared at him, almost mesmerised, the way the water kind of parted for him. No massive splashes. He caught my stare again, grey eyes somehow visable in the darkness, and my breath hitched.

Boromir crashed through the water, startling us both, and held something out. Half an orange? He smiled somewhat. "It is warmed in the fire."

"Uh, thanks." I smiled, glancing back to where Legolas had been, but he was now with Aragorn. "You seem more relaxed."

Boromir slid down, floating beside me, as I took the orange and started to break it up so I could eat it. He gazed at the stars, his hair floating around his head, hands moving backwards and forwards slowly. "Rivers have fond memories for me."

"They do?" I slid down a little too, holding the orange above the water, the warm juice splashing down into the cold river.

"Gondor has a river. I used to take my brother upstream to swim in it when he was no higher than the hobbits." Boromir breathed out, geninue affection on his face, shutting his eyes. "He was always more comfortable in the wild than in the city."

I saw it. I saw the river. Cutting through the land, a silvery flash of water, that cut a great field or something in two. A city on the river, on either side of it, made of white stone.

"Faramir." I muttered. Like with Lord Elrond, I suddenly saw things, flashes. Boromir and Faramir, celebrating a win, something about ale. His father. His mother, dying in childbirth. It was like something had broken open in me. I saw it all. I saw everything, almost, I saw him as he had been. Saw the hurt on Faramir's face, when his father had refused to let him come for the ring, when he'd insisted Boromir do it. Almost in a trance, I muttered, "You didn't want to come. He offered to come here instead of you."

"What?" Boromir blinked. He shifted to stare at me, a guarded look over his face now, almost mistrust. "How did you know that?"

I saw Gandalf, stand, felt his attention on me suddenly. The old man hadn't missed a thing. No one else seemed to have heard, although saying out loud was clearly bad enough, because there was a tension returning across Boromir's face as he stared at me. I flushed, shifting uncomfortably in the water, "I, um."

"Tell him." Gandalf said softly, shifting closer. Tell me, I suspected, but …

"I just, sometimes. See things." I muttered. I knew I had Legolas' attention again, although he too didn't look, and stared at Boromir with new respect. The man was a fucking hero. In contrast, he was looking at me like I was some disease he suddenly didn't want to contract, and he was standing up, shoulders tensing.

"Like what?"

"Like, you, and your brother. Your father. I just saw it. The day you were asked to come here." All of it, actually. I saw something else in his face, I saw some darkness there, a guarded look come over his eyes. "Sorry. I can't … it happens sometimes. You and Faramir."

Boromir didn't answer. He stayed quiet a long time, before slowly wading out of the river, not glancing back. I felt like I'd done something wrong.

He was already in his bedroll by the time we'd wandered back up, asleep or pretending to be, with his back to us. I stared at him, only for Gandalf's hand to close on my arm, and he shook his head. Instead, he directed me to follow him, the glow from his staff as warming on our wet skin as it was bright.

I followed him some distance from the camp, glad for the warmth of his light, and he turned to stare at me gently.

"You had vision of Boromir? Tell me everything." He requested, soft, gentle. It was strange, how soothing Gandalf was, and at the same time, how it was clear he wasn't going to take no for an answer. I breathed out slowly, uncertain.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know. Sit." He gestured towards a smaller rock, and I sat. "Tell me what you saw."

I told him, about the city on a river, about Boromir and Faramir, some kind of victory, and then their father. About his mother. How he'd not wanted to come at all, that it'd been Faramir who'd volunteered. Everything I'd seen about him. It felt wrong, to know more about Boromir than I knew about my own life, and I muttered that.

"Not wrong, no." Gandalf said softly. He gazed up as he took out a pipe and started to stuff something into it. He didn't speak for a long time.

"I feel like I crossed a line though. Knowing it."

"Maybe." He agreed, and I felt my heart sink, but when he looked at me, there was a kind of affection. "Those who can see through words are wise to keep their visions to themselves. Your mistake was not seeing, but speaking."

I sighed and shut my eyes, leaning on my hands, guilt ridden now.

When Gandalf spoke again, he'd change the subject. "Have you had no other visions?"

"Sometimes I have deja vu... um, I mean, feelings like I've been places before. Not often."

"The moment it happens again, you come to me, and you tell me." Gandalf was doing that 'gentle, yet an order' thing again, but I didn't really care. I liked the old man more and more.

"I will. If I... do I tell the others?"

"Sometimes knowing the path doesn't make it easier to walk it." His response was infuriatingly cryptic. It felt like he was trying to tell me something.

I watched him smoke, slowly, staring at him. I saw fireworks when I saw it. I saw food. Lots of hobbits. I blinked and said softly, "Um, well..."

"Yes?"

"What if I see the past?"

"Are you seeing something?"

"Fireworks and a lot of hobbits." I muttered. To my surprise, that answer made Gandalf laugh, a real geninue laugh that made the smoke go the wrong way, and triggered a coughing fit.

"Bilbo's birthday. Is that what you're seeing?"

"I don't know. It was just a lot of ...fireworks. Oh, and," I saw something that made me smile too now, blinking, "Pippin and Merry covered in soot."

That just made Gandalf cough harder, laughing, shaking his head. I smiled somewhat and relaxed, feeling a little better, as the warmth of his staff eased me. "Not all you see is wrong, then. I would not hesitate in telling Pippin and Merry that."

"I might." I smiled a little. "When the time's right."

Gandalf's ring caught my eye and I stared at it. I stared at it for a long time, as his laughter faded, and he slowly let the sleeve cover his ring again. "Is there something else?"

"I don't know." I muttered. Ifelt like I had been caught again staring at something I shouldn't be staring at. "It's a nice ring."

"Yes, it is." Gandalf stood up slowly. "I am going to bed. Are you coming?"

"When I'm dr-" I blinked. I was dry. My clothes were dry, my hair, everything, and I hadn't noticed it. Gandalf's smile was still in his eyes as I stood up, I felt a bit better at that, like I hadn't totally broken some rule by staring at his ring. "I guess now."

"Good. Sam has our food ready, we can have a little rest, a little food, and be ready for tomorrow." Gandalf led me back to the campsite. Once I had one of the hot rocks against aching body, some food, I collapsed.

That night, I dreamed, and it was the nightmares again. I felt hot, burning, I couldn't rest. Some part of me felt like I was thrashing, but at the same time, I could barely move. Nightmares dogged me. I saw the future, I saw the past, I saw everything about this place. But I couldn't grasp onto the memories, even though I was conciously aware of it being a dream, I lost the images as fast as they came.

It felt like the fire was right there, beside me, like I was practically in the hot coals themselves.

And, suddenly, I was aware of Frodo and the other hobbits like never before. Before, he was that hobbit that kept some distance, that hobbit that carried it. It was like I wasn't quite in my own body, trapped beside it, and the only thing I could make out beside my dreams was them. The four little men, sleeping side by side, and the weight of that ring.

It was powerful.

It called to me. And for the first time, I felt it, felt this desire for it. But why? I questioned it in my dreams, confused, and a little put off. Why did I want it so much?

When I woke, I was sweating, heart racing, half expecting to have been ...where? Half out of blankets? Thrashed all over the place? Chaos? But nothing. I was exactly where I'd been when I'd fallen asleep, almost to the inch, except that my head had turned towards the hobbits.

Everyone was asleep, except Gandalf, his eyes on me. I felt guilt dog me, guilt about these dreams, these feelings... and stared away, trying to look normal, trying to behave like nothing was wrong. It was just a dream. It was nothing.

"I saw stuff." I said, very softly, and he shifted a little closer. Had he been keeping guard? "But I can't... remember any of it."

"No?" Why did I get the impression that he didn't quite believe me?

"Well, I remember feeling like I was in the fire." I shifted up, my hot sweaty sin bared to the cold morning air. Somehow though I couldn't bring the hobbits up. They sat there, at the back of my mouth, but I just couldn't quite... say it. Out loud.

So I stared at the rising sun, trying to relax, and Gandalf finally looked away.

The morning's walk was surprisingly easier, maybe because of the warm stone I'd pressed against my aching legs that night, the dream dancing through my head. Boromir didn't talk to me, though he seemed to be relaxed again, Legolas led the way with his eternally youthful legs, and I ended up chatting with Gimili. He wanted to know more about 'London'.

"How many live there?" He asked, making his way slowly up the hill beside me, using the safe part of his axe as a staff.

"I think a few million."

"Million!" Aragorn stared at me like I was mad. "There's not so many men in Middle Earth!"

"Isn't there?" I wondered about that. I had, after all, only seen a handful of humans. Literally. "I guess ...it's an old city."

"How old?"

"Um." I wandered slowly up. Something was coming to me. Some woman, who'd burnt London to the ground when Rome had it, and who had left a thick red line which was still under London. "Well, it must at least be two thousand years old. There was a woman who burnt it to the ground two thousand years ago."

"Why did she do that?" Pippin sounded a little less breathless too. He glanced back over his shoulder at me, as we trudged up the hill.

"I don't remember. Something about revenge. If I remember, I'll tell you the story." I glanced back and stared, somewhat amazed, at how high we were up now. More and more. Behind us were giant snowy mountains, not towering above us as they had been once, but instead we were close to coming to half their height.

I shivered, amazed, and turned around.

"We're nearly at the highest point for some time." Gandalf called down the hill. "See that?" He pointed at a peak just above us. A rocky outcrop, standing above everything, maybe a few miles away. "Not far now, and we'll rest, eat some lunch.

"Then where?" Frodo asked.

"We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there our road turns east to Mordor "

Okay, that was deja vu, big time, and Gandalf met my eyes as I kind of ...waved my hand at him. He nodded, falling back, Aragorn stepping forward to take the lead.

"Sorry." I said softly.

"Don't be."

"I guess, I was just going to say, things are kind of feeling deja-vuy again."

"Oh? Walk beside me then." He seemed vaugely interested now, and we walked side by side up the mountain, while I stared around.

Once we'd reached the peak of stones, granite or something, I really did feel like it was familiar. I met Gandalf's eyes. "Yeah. I … feel like this is kind of familiar."

"Good, good." He didn't seem the least bit concerned about this. "Sam?"

"No smoke with this one." Aragorn instructed Sam. He was already gathering wood, as the others moved to drop packs down, sit, Gimli already with a pipe in his mouth.

I flopped down as well, for a moment, but I felt restless and weird. So I stood up again despite my aching body's protest and stared around. Legolas took one look at me and went to stand up a bit higher, keeping watch, which didn't really reassure me much.

Okay. I hadn't seen any baddies. Not yet. But … I still felt kind of weird.

"I am sorry for how I responded." Boromir's voice cut in, and I blinked as he stepped closer, lowering his pack to rest next to mine. His voice was low, clearly he wasn't interested in sharing this with the others, as he sat down beside me. "It was not a day I like remembering."

"Your brother." I said softly. "Seemed awesome."

"Awesome?"

"Um, I mean, like a really good person. A good man." I explained as I sat down slowly. I saw some of the guarded expression fade away from his eyes at that and knew I was onto a winner with this conversation direction. "I hope I get to meet him."

"I am sure you will. One day, we will return, and I will show you the city." His smile really returned then, warmth in his face, staring into the horizon. "Nothing you've seen will compare to the beauty of Gondor."

"I believe it." I really did too. Sure, I had seen London, but then this place seemed to have beautiful everything. The next words kind of popped out, "And I can teach you how to make a kite."

"A what?" Boromir seemed amused by that.

I smiled somewhat. "You'll see."

"Sausage?" Sam called to Aragorn. "Should I cook them?"

Gandalf answered for Aragorn, nodding. "Go ahead."

Sam was quick to yank out a frying pan and squash the fire down a bit with it, eager, some energy returning.

"When my brother was young, I instructed him in the use of a sword. I would teach you to fight, now, if you'd like" Boromir offered. He stood up.

"Maybe tonight. I really..." I really felt anxious still. Weird. But I smiled weakly. "Am kind of hungry."

"All right. Tonight, then, I will teach you." He moved away and headed for where Pippin and Merry were. "Would you two like to learn how to use those swords?"

Another cloud of smoke past me, from Aragorn, and I noticed Gandalf had also pulled out his pipe. Weed. It smelt like weed. Was everyone here stoners?

The clash of swords got my attention and up went the 'deja vu' thing again, as I watched Boromir and the hobbits clash swords, seeing that side of Boromir I liked come back out again. Aragorn was relaxed too, smiling, and I went to sit beside him. He flashed a warm smile in my direction, distracted suddenly, as Pippin nearly fell onto his ass.

"Move your feet!"

Merry glanced at Pippin approving, "You look good, Pippin."

"Thanks."

"Faster!" Boromir encouraged, clearly happy with this, his eyes flashing up to me. That just seemed to make him happier. Oh yeah. Stroke the man's ego.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria." Gimli's voice drifted from my side.

The words kind of made me uneasy all over again, and my eyes glanced sideways at Gandalf, who caught my gaze for a moment. Then he looked back to Gimli as he continued.

"My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

Gandalf shook his head slowly." No Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

I stared at Legolas again, standing still, slowly getting to my feet. It must have distracted Boromir, because I heard Pippin's yell of pain, and suddenly all three of them were on the ground mock fighting.

Only distracted a moment, I headed up, slowly, trying to see it too. Yep. This was what I felt anxious about.

" For the Shire! Hold him! Hold him down! Merry!" Pippin's delighted yell from behind me barely got my attention.

"Gentlemen, that's enough." Aragorn's voice drifted up.

I exchanged looks with Legolas, who's frown line had re-apperared between his eyes, and he re-focused on the thing in the distance.

Sam must have noticed we were staring at something. "What is that?"

"Goblins from Dubin?" I muttered, as the words popped into my head, though it didn't quite ...sound right. Legolas's head twisted towards mine, a fraction, but he seemed to be trying to focus harder.

"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud."

Then why did I have the sudden urge to dive under that bush?

Something must have snapped in Legolas' brain or vision because, realising what it was, he was already backing up, a hand on my arm and pulling me back. "Crebain from Dunland!"

Well, okay, I was sort of close. I gladly followed him and hid, as Aragorn shouted for everyone to hide, the anxiety starting to climb as that ...whatever the hell it was... got closer. Legolas and I ended up under a bush, pressed against each other, his arm over my shoulders, eyes fixed on the traces of sky through the bush.

Birds. Big black crows, as big as my arm, and at least a hundred of them. Legolas drew me closer, or I drew closer to him, one or the other, as the air filled with the sound of their terrible calls, with the musky smell of bird and decay, the beating of wings, the sheer amount of birds darkening the sky as the birds circled around and over the large outcrop. If they hadn't seen one of us, they must have seen the fire, or the packs, or...

And then they were gone.

I thought my anxiety would be gone. But instead, it remained, as we climbed out slowly.

When Gandalf spoke, I realised why I felt anxious, and that it wasn't totally to do with the birds.

"Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras "

Oh god. I followed his gaze.

Up a mountain side.

A week and a half.

It took a week just to get down the valley, off the high place we'd worked so hard to get up to in the first place, and another three days up a slope back up to the green and white hills on the other side of the valley. And we weren't anywhere near the real Mountain yet!

I fell into a kind of daze. Walk, trudge, walk, brain shut off. Crawl into bed. Sleep. Have nightmares. Come back out, talk with whoever was beside me, half expecting to see more memories. I didn't, I didn't see anything else, and it was both a relief and a concern.

Not only that, but there was nothing dangerous about this. Nothing. By the fourth day of trying to reach the pass of 'that great bloody mountain', I half wondered if there was even any baddies, besides over-sized crows. It was hard to think otherwise.

Once we'd reached the slopes back up the hills, I found another problem. The weather. It might have been warmer to get The real problem was the weather. However 'warm' it had been lower down, the higher the fellowship walked, the colder it got.

Still, it meant bonding time around warmer fires, as Aragorn had to let us build better fires. I had to admit, I liked them all, and Gimli was growing on me big time. He had a better sense of humour, more understanding of how physically hard it was for me, and seemed to be more interested in how I was doing.

Legolas, on the other hand, kept staring at me. Behaving funny. I couldn't explain it. Particually when Boromir was training me. Sometimes, Legolas would come to watch, and sometimes he'd go off to keep watch. It took me four days before I realised he'd stopped talking to me at all.

Everyone seemed to be getting on better and better, even Boromir and Aragorn, joking and messing around. Sure, there was a tenseness, but …

Not so much anymore.

I lay there, on my bed on the cold dirt, staring up into the perfectly clear sky. No more fires- there just wasn't enough firewood for it to last long enough, and no trees close by. So it was freezing. I was freezing. I'd been lying there for hours. And we weren't anywhere near the mountain yet! The ground was freezing, we'd past patches of snow in lower grounds.

"Aren't you tired?" Legolas said softly from where he sat beside me, wide awake. I'd only seen him sleep a few times this whole bloody trip. When did he sleep?

"I'm too cold to be tired." I muttered. Although my eyes were on the stars, I knew the others were asleep, Legolas once again on watch duty. Guess it made sense- he had the best eyes and ears here and apparently didn't sleep. The soft snores of Frodo made me kind of envious. How did he sleep?

"Oh." I heard the sound of movement, something dragged across the snow, and then he was suddenly right beside me, his mat beside mine.. Legolas dropped back down. "Lie close to my side then."

I shifted closer, shutting my eyes, the warmth of his legs seeping through. I felt him tug my blanket open, slide a leg or two in, and the muscle of his leg press against my side.

Okay, wow.

"How long a walk is it?" I asked softly. I'd held the question in for some time. Meeting Legolas eyes in the darkness, there was no moon anymore, I saw him hesitate.

"Perhaps another week. We could walk faster but... this is difficult terrain for everyone."

"You mean, Elves could walk faster."

He nodded, eyes up, staring into the darkness. "Yes."

"Must be frustrating for you."

"I am learning patience. With many things." His eyes came back down to me. There was that subtle frown back in his face again. "Have you had nothing come to you about me?"

"You?" I blinked up at him. "Why you?"

"Nothing." Legolas muttered.

"I can't … just magic it up. It doesn't work like that." I didn't know how to do it. It frustrated me. "I mean, sometimes there's things, but usuall-"

"You remember Boromir's past." His eyes were fixed on the sky now. "And spend time with him. Have you seen much of his life?"

Was he jealous? The perfect blonde Elf? Jealous? "I don't know. I didn't see a lot."

Legolas shifted, a little, leg brushing against my arm. "All Elves see some things."

"Oh? What do you see?"

He didn't answer for a long time, a hand resting on the ground behind my head, and for a while I wondered if he'd fallen asleep like that. I was almost asleep myself when he finally spoke up, quietly, "Some things."

It wasn't much of an answer. "Like?"

"Seeing the future does not give answers as to how to walk it."

That answer wasn't much easier. I sat up slowly, trying to see his face, confused.

"What..."

"Go to sleep." Legolas met my eyes, his expression as alien as he'd seemed when I was drunk, distant and withdrawn in himself. "You will sleep now."

I wanted to argue but I didn't. Instead, I lay back down, shut my eyes, and wondered. What had he seen, that he seemed so distant about? Was it bad? Good? I didn't get to ask. The warmth of his body heat seemed to assist with the sleeping and it wasn't long before I'd dropped away from the comforting body heat into the all too familiar torment of nightmares.

That night, I didn't have nightmares. What I did have was warmth, a lot of it, and when I woke, Legolas hadn't budged an inch. He was still wide awake, still gazing around, his head twisting a fraction in my direction.

"Were you there all night?" I mumbled, voice heavy with sleep, and he blinked at me.

"Sorry, I do not understand you."

Oh. Accent. I tried to swallow back the sleepiness, speak clearer, "Did you keep watch from there?"

"Aragorn took his turn not long after you went to sleep. I have rested here." Legolas shifted, slowly, and I swore I heard something crack. A bone? So he was at least made of muscle and bone. That was nice to know. He stretched an arm slowly, over me, and I swore I smelt a trace of that body odour once again.

"Rested sitting up?"

"It was enough." Legolas reached down, tucking hair out of my face, and I reached up to feel it was all over the place again. Our hands brushed and he actually flinched, blinking at me.

The contact sent those tingles all throughout my body though, even though it was brief, and he blinked at his own action. Legolas stood up quickly. No one else saw it, everyone except for Boromir were asleep, and he was some distance off up the hill.

I was attracted to the elf. I knew it. It was kind of embarrassing. Somehow it felt wrong, like it wasn't meant to be here, and I didn't look at him as we packed up camp and ate a hurried breakfast.

Hurriedly tying my hair back, or attempting to, I followed the Fellowship up the slope, staring around. It was only as I re-dressed that I remembered I didn't have a ear on that side, that he must have noticed, and the more familiar self-loathing returned. But I was too tired to focus on it.

Luckily, walking seemed to push it back. Instead I focused on trudging up the hillside, I wondered what the hell he'd talked about. Come to think of it, was this foresight thing an Elf thing? Hadn't Lord Elrond said he'd done it? Did Legolas see things too?

I didn't really know. I didn't really want to think about him. Now that I'd acknowledged the attraction, it was hard to look at him, to think, because it was …

I didn't know. That was the problem. It didn't feel right. None of this did. And, I realised with a start, that every vision I'd had so far had never included me in it. Never. Them, yes, but not me. It was like I wasn't even here.

The thought freaked me out.

It got progressively colder though, that I knew, and boy did I feel grateful right now for the warm waterproof boots that I had been given. No matter how much dew, snow or otherwise under our feets, the bottom of the boots never seemed to slip and no dampness got in.

That night, the cold again, and like before, Legolas appeared. Warm, bothering my mental state, and this time I was even more painfully aware of his shift of muscles against my side. I had to turn onto my side, back to him, which didn't help because now I just felt more of him against my back. It kept me awake long after everyone else was asleep, this awareness of a growing attraction, which bugged me to no end. I kind of wanted to tell him to go away now. But would that make it obvious?

Memories of that drunken ...whatever the hell it had been... sprang back up big time now. If I got him drunk again, I could …

Yeah, that was just not going to happen.

"What's your home like, Legolas?" I said quietly. There. Safe topic.

"Old." The answer wasn't that surprising, not really, but Legolas shifted softly as if the topic bothered him a little. "It is surrounded by ancient forest, old forest. Once, it was great, full of light, the trees content and happy to speak to us. Now, we only have a small place left, and the trees are angry. Much of the forest is no longer safe to even Elvenkind."

"Why?"

"There have been many wars and Sauron has cast his shadow upon most of the trees remaining. I remember no time when it was safe in all my long years. Only when my father was young, the great forest stretched far and was safe to walk in, until the shadow fell across all of the forest, and our people were forced to retreat north."

"How long ago was that?" I felt my body easing into sleep now, as he talked, as I felt his warm body spread the same warmth through my cold back. "Why isn't it safe now?"

"A very long time, at the end of the first age." Legolas's hand actually rested on my side at that, such an easy natural gesture, like he'd been sleeping beside me for a long time. Again, it caused tingles, but it was more than that. It was ...comfortable. "There are spiders, great spiders, who have taken over much of the forest. My father does his best to keep the roads of Mirkwood safe but deeper inside, where the trees crowd and the light does not pass the canopy, even Elves are in great danger.

How long was an age? I wondered, shifting to turn onto my back a little, staring up at him, "So ..."

"Around three thousand years ago. My father was my age." He stared up at the stars again. Elves and stars. I noticed they were obsessed with them. "Never have I seen any forest such as he remembers. The world has been falling into shadow and the trees no longer wish to wake."

"Wake?" I yawned, slowly, blinking. This kind of brought up a memory. Walking trees. Ents. Pippin and Merry. Oh my god, I was having a vision of the future. Either that, or it was the past, and the hobbits never mentioned something as incredible as a walking tree. Sliding up, to Legolas surprise, I muttered, "Ents are awake still."

"Ents?" That added to his surprise as he watched me stand. "Where are you going?"

"Gandalf." I pointed in the direction the old man was standing, keeping watch, and yawned a little. Trust ...fate. Now, when I was ready to drift off, I had to get up and talk to Gandalf. Still, it was a good excuse to get away from Legolas for a while.

Gandalf did not seem to be surprised at all to see me. He mearly turned, slowly, and called softly, "Legolas, I thought I saw something move down there." He pointed.

Legolas, who had risen as well, nodded and vanished into the darkness. Gandalf turned to me and patted the log beside him.

"Sorry, I just... thought I saw something" I said it very softly.

"Tell me, then."

"Ents. Pippin and Merry. I don't think it was the past." I heard him shift, turning to face me more. "I mean, I never heard them talk about a walking tree before."

"No, nor have I. Do you know where?"

"Fangorn Forest. I don't know much else. Just seeing them, with a walking tree, while he told them a-" I hesitated. It was like trying to remember a dream and the more I spoke about it, the more I saw it.

"Told them what?"

"Well, a poem about Entwives." That wasn't what had made me hesitate. I'd seen something else and stared at Gandalf. It was, if it was the future, his future. "And I saw you."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I saw them being dropped in front of you and-"

"I see." Gandalf cut me off before I could speak more. He smiled warmly. "I don't think I need to know more. Ents, hm? Still awake, after all this time." He went quiet, gazing thoughtfully forward, a cloud of smoke breathed out as he exhaled smoke.

"Yeah." I watched something move, sitting up, but it was only Legolas some hundred feet below, briefly catching the light of the waning moon.

"You should go back to bed, while it's warm, and rest." Gandalf suggested softly after some time. I took his advice.

The higher we got up, the colder it got, until it was only snow that we were walking on. Legolas wasn't wrong about it being 'a week and a half'. It was more like two weeks, I suspected, but time was blurring into 'white snow, dark snow' cycles.

The slope was a difficult one to get up, and though I occasionally felt tempted to stop, make a snowman, throw some balls, I felt too physically exhausted all the time to even bother bending over to touch the stuff. It was hard enough to keep my footing in the slippery landscape. It wasn't just me struggling, the hobbits were having a hard time, having no shoes. Their feet must have been hurting like hell but I didn't hear any of them complain, not a single murmer of it, not even from Pippin. They just trudged up the mountain between us, occasionally slipping, and Gandalf ordered them to stay between the taller men in case they slipped.

And at night, they slept huddled together, side by side.

Boromir entertained me each night with stories of Gondor, and this usually was triggered by Gimli boasting about the great mines of the Dwarfs. Legolas didn't boast but he always listened, watching Gimli, never really speaking to him. Was there something weird going on between them? Kind of aggressive? Even Aragorn and Boromir seemed to be getting on better now than Legolas and Gimli.

Gandalf told the hobbits the story about the Ents, on the third night, a general story about their history. He sounded casual, like this was just him telling a story of his own, but when he met my eye I knew it'd partly been triggered by what I'd told him. They must have heard this story before, given how Pippin kept offering parts Gandalf forgot, but the hobbits were completely taken with the story anyway. Everyone except Frodo. He sat there quietly, eating, watching without really taking part.

I had felt increasingly uncomfortable about him and what he wore. When he stared at me, I glanced away, feeling guilty somehow. Boromir had the same expression. I didn't like this, how I was feeling, how awkard and weird that ring was making me feel. How ...drawn.

It really bothered me. The more I felt this way, the more I didn't want anything to do with Frodo or that ring, the more I wanted to just leave. And take Boromir with me. He seemed as uncomfortable about being here as I felt. And, I realised, neither of us had really wanted to come on the trip.

Still, seeing as I was here, I may as well be useful somehow.

I was thinking this, as we trudged up the mountain, Boromir right behind me.

I thought so, anyway.

"Frodo!"

The call from Aragorn made me pause, and turn, seeing that Frodo was against Aragorn. Boromir was stepping back down the slope and...

Deja vu of the very uncomfortable kind.


	3. Caves, dwarfs, and combat

I couldn't see what Boromir picked up, his shield was in the way, and I didn't hear what he said to himself softly. But he had frozen, standing there, and I knew it was bad. Somehow, I saw his face in my mind, like I'd seen it. I knew it was bad.

Aragorn made it pretty clear to all of us.

"Give the ring to Frodo, Boromir." Aragorn was tense, suddenly, every muscle in his body ready to move. I saw the hand on his sword, under Boromir's arm, as Boromir slowly traced his way down the slope.

For a second, I thought... for a moment, it looked like he wasn't going to...

And then, he was smiling, rubbing Frodo's head, and trudging back up the mountain with a casual, "I care not."

Boromir met my eyes and I saw it, that darkness back, saw a flash of something in his face as he caught my face. Guilt? He trudged past me, making his way up, and slowly I turned to follow, after meeting Aragorn's eyes.

It was only then, I realised I had my hand on my own sword, and I breathed out slowly. Oh god. This entire thing was crazy. This stupid fucking ring. Nothing should make people get this crazy. I slowly started back up the slope, feet crunching on the snow, letting go of the sword.

I saw a crow, barely fifty metres away, staring right at me. It sent cold chills down my spine, even from that distance, the thing gave me the creeps.

"Isn't that one of those Cremblin things?" I called softly, glancing back at Aragorn, who blinked at me and looked in the direction I pointed. An arrow suddenly ripped towards the thing, Legolas had already taken action, and the crow fell dead off the cliff face.

Black shapes rose suddenly, off the edge of the cliff, shaking off snow. Crows. Covered in snow. Whatever they were, they weren't natural crows, that was for sure. I grabbed for my bow, fumbling, adrenaline bursting through me as Legolas let off several more arrows but... they were already gone by the time I got it out.

Aragorn swore and called up to Gandalf, "We should hurry."

"We will walk through the night." Gandalf called back. "Hurry!"

He hadn't been kidding. Night fell. We kept walking. The stars vanished under clouds. We kept walking. A cold wind started to blow, cutting right though cloth and bone, my teeth chattering within minutes if it blowing.

But Gandalf said walk through the night and that was what we did, stumbling, walking, trying to follow Gandalf's glowing staff through the darkness. Exhaustion wasn't even the word for it. At some point during the night, the hobbits just couldn't walk, they were too cold and too worn out, so Aragorn and Boromir had to pick two up each, carrying them.

Snow started to fall, in the darkness, pretty little flakes that flashed. I almost missed the slope, almost, only to be grabbed by Boromir as I nearly slipped down a slope.

"Careful." He hissed, regetting a grip on Merry, glancing down. "It's not a fall you'd survive."

I stared down as well. He might have been right, I didn't know, it was too dark to see how deep that slope went. Was it a little fall? A cliff? Who knew.

We rested a moment, just half an hour, and I fell asleep against Legolas side without complaint. Why not? Boromir and Aragorn were snuggling hobbits and Gimli was between Gandalf and the poor pony that Sam had insisted on bringing up the mountain. It was just as miserable looking as we felt.

"The sun rises." Gandalf called softly. "We continue."

The sun rose? Really? I couldn't have told- the sky was dark grey, everything was dark, and the snowflakes had gone from being a few pretty ones, to a shower of freezing cold shapes that buried us. I shivered, shutting my eyes, leaning against Legolas warm side again. Even he seemed a little cold. A little.

"Wendy, let us go." He said softly, against my ear, and slowly stood us both up. I gritted my teeth, trying to smile up at Legolas, who returned it easily. Again, he brushed his hand across my face, tucking hair behind my ear. I caught sight of something around his neck briefly, a flash of a necklace, a silver leaf.

It looked familiar somehow.

Legolas glanced down at it, then at me, and tucked it away. He moved away before I could ask, easily across the snow as if he weighed nothing, and I found myself back in line in snow that was now getting to knee height.

We trudged slowly up through the deepening snow and it was a long time before any daylight got through the blizzard. When it did, I nearly had a heart attack, seeing that the 'slope' beside me wasn't a slope. It was a cliff. A sheer cliff that must have had a fall miles deep. Boromir really had saved my life then. Woah. One foot to the left and I'd have fallen.

By then, the snow had started to reach my waist, and everyone was struggling and exhausted. Gandalf and Legolas seemed the only ones who were coping still, Gimli close to me, breathing hard through a piece of fabric. He stared at me.

"Here." He grabbed for something, ripping it, a piece of cloth. "Wrap this around your mouth. You can freeze your lungs up here if you don't protect them."

I did what Gimli had said, finding he was right, it did help. Less cold air got into my lungs. I smiled weakly, seeing his eyes crinkle in return, and he turned to continue up, barely coming over the top of the thick drift of snow.

The mountain shook, or it felt like it, and I tried to stare ahead. Legolas moved past, easily, his hand brushing across my scalp as he moved. Yeah, rub it in.

He froze ahead of us, staring directily into the wind, calling something through the wind to Gandalf. I didn't catch it, but I did hear Gandalf, and felt my heart speed up at the word.

"It's Saruman!"

The mountain really shook now, and I pressed myself against the freezing side of the mountain, Gimli close behind. Rocks fell, suddenly, shaking everything, and the snow... for a moment... almost felt like it was about to fall too. The image of an avolance filled my head and terror flooded me. Oh god.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn yelled from behind me.

I wanted to agree, I was almost tempted to, but Gandalf beat me to it.

"No!"

Stubborn old man! I gritted my teeth as they chattered, pressing against the side, shutting my eyes in fear as again there was a tremble of the mountain beside me. Gimli's hand found mine, to my amazement, and he squeezed it.

"Courage."

Yeah, right. Gandalf was up, shouting something into the wind. Somehow I knew it wouldn't work. Somehow I knee what was coming. I stared at Legolas, up so high, and fear cut through me. What if he was knocked down?

Pushing past Gimli, I shoved forward, trying to get to Legolas and Gandalf.

"Legolas, Gandalf, get down! He's going to-"

Legolas stared at me, then up, and grabbed Gandalf, just as white engulfed us. Snow, ice, rocks, stones, heavy and threatening to drag us all down, just as I felt Legolas and Gandalf crash into my side, one of Legolas arms grasping onto me. Snow moved, moved for where I was sure the edge was, and we almost moved with it. It tore Legolas sideways, Gandalf another way, and then...

It stopped.

I pushed snow up, off me, gasping for cold air as I stared around. Gandalf was already up, Leglas staring around.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Boromir's voice came over the snow, his face anxious, eyes meeting mine. Yeah. I kind of liked his idea.

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn shut his eyes as more snow rained down, another snower, but this was light, simple.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli called, shifting closer, pushing snow aside.

Gandalf didn't answer for a long time, anxiety building in me as he stood there, concern in his face. Then, softer, he responded, "Let the Ring bearer decide."

Boromir shouted, "We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!"

When I glanced at him, I caught Pippin's wide eyes over the snow, his face drained of blood. Maybe Boromir was right. This was very bad.

"Frodo?"

Frodo, who looked as frozen as Pippin, responded, "We will go through the mines."

The answer freaked me out a little, somehow, but Gandalf nodded.

"So be it. South, to the mines."

Now, we just had to get out again. We turned around, stared at the massive heap of snow, and I groaned softly.

A light body jumped down beside me, Legolas on my side, sliding past to walk in front. Yeah. Easy for him to say. It took half an hour just to dig the poor pony out, then another half hour to somehow manage to get safely away from where the avalange was. Snow kept falling, sometimes rocks, or one of us would find a rock hidden under snow and nearly go tipping over the edge. On top of that, the blizzard kept blowing, and even with a backwind it was difficult to get off the scary slopes once more.

The mountain didn't stop shaking until we were back off the cliff path, well after dark, and all of us collapsed on the safer flatter slope, the hobbits trembling.

"We can't stay here." Gandalf said softly, reaching down to touch Frodo's shoulder beside me, the warm glow from his staff barely doing any good with my frozen body. Pippin was shuddering with cold, smile long gone, staring forward as if he was half unconcious.

"No." Boromir breathed out slowly, head in hands, but his legs shook too. I reached out to touch his arm and he gazed sideways at me, a tired smile emerging, his hand closing over mine to squeeze it. "So we will walk."

I had half hoped he'd say we should rest.

"Not yet." Gandalf sat down slowly, with a soft groan, and moved his staff closer to the middle of the group. The glow increased and the warmth seeped through my soggy clothing enough to offer some relief. "I think we should eat first."

We all ate quietly, using Gandalf's hot staff to unfreeze slices of bread and cheese, while Sam muttered sadly about how he wished he could make a good pot of hot potato and sausage soup to go with the bread.

"When we reach the lower ground, Sam." Aragorn smiled over his warm bread, shutting his eyes.

I took a bite of the bread and felt relief flood me, gooey cheese melting in mouth, knowing exactly why he looked so content. Oh god. There was nothing better than this kind of food after a hard day's work. When I was offered a bowl of something that smelt like tea, it just added to it, and I actually smiled.

Course, at that point, I caught the Elf's eye. Totally by accident. He looked almost surprised to see the smile and mirrored it. I quickly looked away, face reddening, wondering if he'd noticed. Oh god. The last thing we needed was a one way attraction complicating things.

Boromir tossed over another piece of bread, also appearing to cheer up, the warmth of Gandalf's stuff melting the icicles in his slightly greasy hair. Steam was actually rising from all of us. Of course, we'd all have to get wet and frozen again when we left, but … it was a nice change. And when we started back down the slope, all of us were slightly more cheerful, the hobbits with a bit more color on their faces, blizzard or no blizzard. It took hours before the warmth of that simple lunch faded again.

Downhill did have one advantage. While it wasn't easier- it was actually harder, due to the slipperyness of the slope- it was much faster, if only because we sometimes had to half run just to get down the slope without falling flat on our noses. Something I actually did twice. It wasn't a fun thing to do. I wasn't the only one. Even Aragorn skidded at one point, only managing to stay up by doing some kind of surfer arm thing, and he 'surfed' down the hill for at least five metres before collapsing onto his knees. It was a pretty fancy trick but no one really felt interested in trying it, except for Legolas, and he had the feet of a goat up on this mountain.

It did remind me of something though. The idea that snow could be fun. I put it in the back of my mind for later.

The longer we walked, the more I thought it was a good idea. Frodo was openly avoiding being too close to Boromir. Boromir, in reaction, had gone back to his black mood that I'd seen more and more. All four hobbits were frozen once more, despite Gandalf's attempts at keeping them warm with his magic staff thing, their arms wrapped tightly around themselves, feet bright red with cold. Icicles had formed in Aragorn and Boromir's hair, or snow had frozen, or something, and I felt the cold air of the softening blizzard badly in the side of my head where I had lost a whole ear. After a while I had to cover it as well with fabric, it really hurt, and I was sure I was starting to get some kind of infection in there.

When Gandalf finally called for everyone to stop for the night, everyone was in an exhausted black mood, and no one made eye contact with each other. We stood there, huddled, trembling, staring blankly forward as Sam muttered something non-committally about food. Even his enthusiasm for feeding us was gone.

"Not long till we reach the lower ground." Gandalf said softly.

I had to do it.

A while after Gandalf did his magic hot staff trick, when we'd more or less warmed up enough to gain feeling in all limbs again, I grabbed Pippin who had been looking exhausted, depressed and frozen for hours.

"Come on, we've been serious long enough, don't you think?"

Pippin, to be honest, couldn't go an hour without some practical joke. So naturally he agreed. When I grabbed Boromir's shield, before he could stop me, and tried to slide down the slope on my ass, he just stared at me like I'd gone mad.

Pippin and Merry, on the other hand, got the point straight away. They went racing for Boromir's shield, as he ran for it, and rescued it. Still, he was smiling, and I didn't think he really minded if my ass had been on the inside of his shield.

"Quick, Merry, grab that!" Pippin pointed at a jacket he'd been trying to dry, all slippery, but more or less waterproof on the outside. Merry grabbed it.

"What have you taught them?" Boromir stood beside me, shaking his head, laughing softly as Pippin did a flying run at the slope, jacket under him, and did a near-perfect dive onto the snow. He skidded a long way, snow flying around him, some life back in his face.

"Um, something. I can't remember what it's called." Bobsledding? Was that it? I wasn't sure, it didn't seem right. "It's fun. You should try it."

Boromir shook his head, holding up one hand, the other clutching hard to his precious shield. He actually backed up towards the camp as he smiled. "Not since a youth have I ..."

Merry shoved Boromir hard in the ass and he went flying down, shield first, skidding a few metres down a particularly steep slope he'd been walking past. When he stood up, snow was heaped on his head, and his face was redder than it had been earlier.

"It was Wendy!"

Boromir stared at me and I blinked, glancing back at Merry, who had already vanished down the slope with one foot balanced on some kind of frying pan. Sam shouted something, angry, something about how Merry better not dent his frying pan.

"I won't!" Merry yelled, distracted, and a ball of snow hit him hard in the side of the head. It was enough to unbalance him on the frying pan and he fell face first into the deep snow as he lost his balance on the frying pan. "Ow!"

A sudden onslaught of snow hit me in the head, Boromir laughing as he caught me unawares, and when I bent to fling handfuls of the stuff, he had his shield up and ready. Oh man. He was dead.

"Gather it into a ball." Aragorn's voice said, from beside me, as he ducked a well made ball with one arm. He handed me a compacted ball of snow and flung one of his own hard at Boromir. I flung at the same time. Boromir blocked Aragorn, easily, but apparently missed me, because my snowball hit him in the ear.

"Hey, that's not fair! Fight with honour!" Boromir was laughing, scooping up snow, flinging it hard at Aragorn.

"Does everyone intend to eat or-" Gandalf was cut off as Pippin bombarded him with tiny snowballs, which more or less melted on contact with the light of the staff, but Gandalf was tempted. He narrowed his eyes at Pippin, who flinched, and suddenly something was flying at him. Sparks. Flame? "Fool of a Took!"

"I'm sorry, I'm-" One of the fireballs hit Pippin and knocked him clear into the snow. It didn't harm him, clearly, but it had melted the snow and when he got up he was soaking wet. "No magic!"

Another snowball slammed into me, from Boromir, or I'd assumed so. No. It was Legolas, down now with Boromir, apparently a team now.

Aragorn nudged me. "Come on, ignore the hobbits a moment."

A raging snowball fight exploded, between myself and Aragorn and Legolas and Boromir, with the hobbits giving in and taking sides. Even Frodo joined in, laughing and smiling as he flung tiny snowballs from my side, and using Aragorn as a living shield.

It was a relief to see him smiling. Even Gandalf had relaxed, after such a bad time on the mountain, watching us with his staff in hand.

It ended only when it got dark and everyone was too cold to bother. Then we huddled around Gandalf once more, letting his staff dry us, shoulder to shoulder. Aragorn huddled against my side, trembling, hands held out towards the staff. "Twas a good battle."

"Good training too" Boromir still had snow heaped on one head and he shook his head, snow flying everywhere, the smile in his face still crinkling his eyes.

"Who won?"

"I did." Gandalf informed us. "I did not get wet." He glanced at me though, a twinkle in his eye, nodding a small nod. He seemed pleased somehow. That was nice.

I crawled into my roll that night, finding it easier now, easier to sleep, easier to lie down, everything. Realised I hadn't felt blisters for days, my muscles were aching less, and I was sure things were looser.

Legolas rested down beside me, as he seemed to do every night now, sliding one of his legs under the scratchy woollen blanket. He didn't even ask, didn't even speak, it was such a casual thing. I didn't argue. The warmth was like a hot water bottle. I didn't mind in the slightest. And when I slept that night, with one of his legs pressed against my side, I slept better than I had for days.

Gandalf continued to lead us, for days, down the freezing slopes, down the barren hills, and through different forests alongside the Mountains. At least this time it wasn't all uphill, it was a nice mix, and I was sure my body was starting to cope better with all this activity. It really didn't have much choice.

And as we walked, I found myself better and better friends with everyone. It was funny how extreme situations like this just made it ...easy. Aragorn, although he seemed distant at first, was closer now, more friendly, and I noticed he liked to treat me the same way he treated the hobbits- like some kind of father slash brother. Which was fine by me. Gimli was the same.

Boromir, on the other hand, was starting to behave funny everytime I crawled into bed. He'd give Legolas this look, this dark look, and I didn't know what the fuck to make of it. And Legolas, continued to 'sleep' beside me, even though he was sitting from dusk to dawn. It helped me sleep, it made the nightmares less frequent and less powerful, but I still wasn't sure why he kept doing it. It bugged me. I was seriously attracted to him now, even finding msyelf staring at his lips as he sat there, and half of me just wanted to tell him to back off now. It'd be easier.

And he'd started with the 'you're an Elf' thing again. I wasn't sure why. Hadn't the past three weeks of trudging along, like a beached whale, huffing and puffing like the men, while he danced along on his tiptoes as if he didn't feel a single ache or pain from hiking... hadn't that proven to him that I wasn't an Elf?

It frustrated me and worried me. I was confused. One part of me was sure Peter Pan was a story, that I wasn't an Elf, but the other part of me just wasn't quite sure. What if I was an Elf? What if that had really been my story/ How could I be so sure, when I couldn't even be sure of my own name, when I had very little of my own life remembered?

When he'd tell me about things, he'd finger that leaf necklace, eyes distant, like he was seeing something I wasn't.

"The Wall of Moria!" Gimli's soft awed voice cut into my troubled thoughts, as I wandered behind him, and only now did I stare up at the great thing in front of me. Were we going to Moria? Huh. I was confused for a moment. Or was ...it Mordor? That was probably the right now. It was very unlikely we'd get all the way to this Mordor place without being attacked once. They'd made this clear over the past week, more or less dragging me onto my feet for training, even though I just wanted to go straight to sleep.

I stared up now, staring at this great cliff of stone, the tops of it so high that it was lost in cloud and mist. I had to admit. I was impressed. If there was something inside, it was well hidden, and probably a pretty safe place to be. Cool. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. The evening had started to darken pretty well now, which probably made it more impressive again, and cold of night started to create frost and dampness on the rocks once more.

"Let's find the door." Gandalf moved forward, up the slope, and along a fairly even surface beside the 'wall'.

We walked for some time, as Gandalf and Gimli both tapped the stone, searching for something. I went to ask but Pippin beat me to it.

"What are you looking for? What does the door look like?"

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli explained, as he knocked the tip of his axe again, leaning against it.

Gandalf called, "Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten."

I heard Legolas say softly from in front of me, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Gimli grumbled something beside me, meeting my eyes, and I didn't comment. Those two were still at their weird standoff. I wasn't going to get involved.

"How will we find it then?" Pippin called from behind me. No one answered him.

There was a splash of something, someone's foot hitting water, and I stared sideways to see a pool of inky black water. It was pretty nasty looking and it gave me a VERY bad case of anxiety.

I went to hurry to Gandalf, as he'd made it pretty clear he wanted to know, but he was standing between two trees, extremely distracted. He ran his hands over stone. "Now…let's see. Ithildin — It mirrors only starlight…and moonlight."

I glanced at the clouds at that, seeing only dark shapes twisting over where a moon and stars probably were. At that, the clouds parted, and a full moon emerged from the clouds. Did Gandalf do that? I wasn't sure what he could do anymore. When I looked back to Gandalf, he was now standing in front of a very shiny looking ...something. Not quite the 'door' I'd pictured, I had to admit, but it was impressive.

Somehow I glanced back at the lake and there it was again, the anxiety, warning me. Something was very bad. This was not okay.

The urge to do the Gap of Rohan thing came straight back. Yeah. I didn't like this in the slightest.

Gandalf used his staff to point out words on the door, reading them out, his attention fully on the door now. "It reads- The Doors of Durin - Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

Merry moved closer, gazing up at the giant door, asking, "What do you suppose that means?

"Oh, it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open." Gandalf seemed pretty confidant. I was tempted to go to him, tempted to tell him about the anxiety, but … he seemed too focused. The staff was pushed against the star on the glowing carvings and he announced, "Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!"

I had no idea what it meant but it didn't work. The door didn't open. This somehow didn't surprise me and the anxiety continued to build, until my heart was fluttering, eyes fixed on the lake. I felt Legolas' gaze and met it, finding him staring at me like I was behaving weird, or maybe he could hear my heart hammering. Maybe he could smell the anxiety. Maybe Elves and dogs could sense fear. But it wasn't my fault.

I heard Gandalf try again, in that language, and Pippin's light hearted comment.

"Nothing's happening." Pippin observed lightly.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves...Men...and Orcs." Gandalf said softly, frustrated.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin's question seemed like a good one to me. Gandalf snapped back though. "Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

Ow. Okay. I was not going to inturrupt Gandalf right now. It was just anxiety, after all, and hadn't Legolas seen the giant crow things in time? I just had to remember to breathe and remind myself that everything was probably okay and under control. Yep. I flopped down, breathing in and out slowly.

After all, how long could Gandalf take, before we were in that safe looking cliff, surrounded by friendly dwarfs and hot fires, as Gimili kept boasting about?

Some time passed, Boromir sitting beside me, relaxing back as Sam started to hand out food. I smelt that pipeweed again, heard Aragon say softly to Sam something about the Pony having to go.

A splash made me flinch, Boromir jumping beside me, and he glanced sideways at me.

"What's wrong?" A hand reached out to grasp mine, tentativly, but when I didn't pull away he held it a little tighter. "You have not eaten."

Another splash, and I flinched again, eyes fixed on the water. Somehow, I couldn't eat. Somehow... "I don't know. There's something wrong with that lake." It had to be that. Everything about that fucking lake made me want to run for the Gap of Rohan, Fellowship or no Fellowship.

And the hobbits were throwing stuff at it. Great. I turned to tell them to stop, Aragorn beating me to it, but...

I heard a splash. And I knew no one had thrown anything.

Oh god.

"Eat." Boromir squeezed my hand, standing, but concern was on his face. He stood up.

I stood up as well, staring back at the water. I saw it move. Something was in there. Something massive. Fear started to grow in the pit of my stomach and I backed up, swallowing, unsure. Legolas startled me as his hand rested on my shoulder.

"There is nothing to fear."

Sure. Uh huh.

"It's a riddle!" I heard Frodo's voice pipe up. "Speak friend and enter. What's the elven word for friend?"

"Mellon." I said, without thinking, hearing Gandalf say it a fraction of a second later. I ignored Legolas, the others, ignored Gandalf's surprised look back at me. What? I just wanted to go inside and meet awesome dwarfs. This lake was giving me the major … was that a tentacle?

I nearly pushed past Gandalf, sa he walked in slowly, right on his tail. I'd hoped I'd feel better in here.

Not really, no. In fact, I felt worse, and I turned, nearly bumping into Boromir. His hand found mine again, which was nice, but I only really felt okay when my free hand found the end of my sword and grasped it. Hard.

Gimli was boasting once again, more cheerful than I had seen him for some time, his head held high as he walked past me. "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."

He didn't see, as Gandalf lit the chamber up, didn't see the rotting corpses. Didn't smelt the smell of decay, blood death, so caught up in the mood he was in. I saw it. I headed for the door, yanking my hand free of Boromir.

"And they call it a mine. A mine!"

Boromir's hand grasped my arm, tugging me back again, as he stared around. "This is no mine, it's a tomb!" He pushed me behind him, sudden, eyes narrowed. It was nice of him but it wasn't enough. I wanted to get the fuck out of there.

Gimli's heartbreaking yell froze me though. Oh god. How would I feel if I found a family's home like this? I stepped towards, him, or meant to, but Boromir's grip on my arm didn't waver.

I saw Legolas dart forward, quickly, and knew what he was going to say. I said it softly as he said it out loud, dread filling me, knowing this. I knew this. I knew what was going to happen.

"Goblins!"

I heard the ring of swords, saw Legolas back up, Boromir finally releasing my arm as he called, "We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here."

I turned, turned towards the hobbits, knowing what I'd see before I saw it. For the first time, the first real time, I felt it. Felt that this was a dangerous quest, that it was deadly, that there was a good chance I wouldn't survive. That none of us would. But …

Tentacles heading for Frodo.

I opened my mouth to call.

Boromir's call cut over mine. "Now get out of here, get out!"

"Frodo!" I tried, voice cracking, but it was too late. The thing had him. The hobbits turned, shouting in horror, as Frodo was dragged out the door again. Towards the lake.

I heard his strangled call, somewhat, frozen, fear as I saw what it was that had him. It was only when Aragorn pushed past me that I realised I had a sword in my hand and I was supposed to be helping here. I rushed after him, not even sure what the hell I was supposed to do, Boromir just inches behind me. Hack at tentacles? Good idea, Aragorn.

With a splash, I entered the water, nearly tripping over slippery pebbles unseen under foot. Sword in hand, I slashed, hacked, not so much caring about technique, except to somehow keep those tentacles away from me as I tried to ...what? I wasn't sure. The smell of something, blood, filled my nostrils as I hacked, water suddenly warm with the creature's blood, soaking to my legs with it. Saw it groan, a terrible cry that chilled me, but it was Frodo's terror that kept me moving. The poor little guy, and the giant mouth and... an arrow flew straight into it. Good old Leggy, right behind us, could always count on him.

He fell. Into my arms. Boromor shoved me back out of the water, hand on my back, and I ran for my life, knowing, feeling, aware that I was just inches from being mauled by tentacles, from being dragged into that mouth, aware that it was giving chase. Of me. Holding Frodo.

"Legolas!" Boromir shouted, as we rushed past, his hand somehow keeping me upright.

"Into the cave!" Aragorn's shout came. I felt that urgency to NOT go into the cave, but with Frodo in my arms, his arms clutching hard to me like his life depended on it, I was in no place to argue. Aragorn shouted, "Run!" and I ran for both our lives, slipping up the rocks, back into the dark cave where I hadn't wanted to be in the first place.

I heard it, heard it tearing at stone with amazing strength, felt the cliff itself collapse around us, dust rising into the air and filling my lungs.

And then it was suddenly dark, Frodo's panicked breathing in my ears, my own mingling with it, his arms holding on tight, his small body literally shaking as he clung on like some child.

Panting and heavy breathing echoed around the blackness, for some time, before Gandalf's voice came through the darkness. "We now have but one choice."

I lowered Frodo down carefully as light gently started to fill the inkiness, Gandalf's staff glowing, Frodo's face white as he stood there. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs, in the deep places of the world."

No room for argument, I thought as I stared back at the mess that was once a door. We had to go. I bit my lip, fear and anxiety returning, knowing this was not the best idea. But it was all we had. So I turned and followed the others up the steps, trying to avoid stepping on the half rotted corpses around us, heart in throat.

Gandalf's voice echoed down softly. "Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

And so, once more, we walked. No one really spoke, no one dared to speak more than they needed to, but I saw Boromir and Aragorn carefully making sure their swords were ready to be drawn. After hours of walking, when we had a break, I made Aragorn show me how to do it too. We moved aside, into a space where less sound would carry.

"That was brave of you." He said, softly, as he reached for my sword. "To go for Frodo."

"Was it?" I wasn't sure it was, to be honest. "I mean, everyone did."

"True." Aragorn agreed with a small smile. "If you keep your sword like this-" He did something with it, tugging it out a fraction, "-it will not stick."

"You should be more careful." Boromir scolded softly. "You are smaller. Slower. It may have-"

"She is faster than you." Legolas responded. He moved to my other side, a hand coming down onto my shoulder. "It was well done."

I smiled weakly. Honestly, it wasn't that special, everyone had rushed to help Frodo. But I didn't argue. I let Legolas check a cut I'd got from falling rock, Aragorn moving to sit with Frodo and check him, too anxious to really care much about arguing right now.

"Are you all right?" Legolas said softly, as he pressed something against a cut on my head, and I felt something wet. Water? When I reached up, he grasped my hand, pushing it back down. "I am cleaning it. The blood of that creature may be dangerous."

Oh, okay. I gazed up at him as he dabbed carefully at the wound, his eyes on my scalp, feeling hotter by the second. Legolas was just inches away. His lips caught my attention, as they always did, lips that...

Met mine, so carefully, like he was ready to back off if I ordered. My eyes shut, as his body pressed against mine, pinning me between the rock and his body. A rock and a hard place? But it wasn't lustful, not like it had been the first time, it was just sweet, long, a kiss that made my legs melt under me. I felt one of his arms come to rest around my waist. The other hand had frozen on my head.

When we parted, Legolas had that hint of a smile in his eyes, and he gazed back up to the scalp and returned to cleaning.

Truth was, I didn't know what to make of that, except that kiss had been incredible. Fingers traced against my scalp, slowly, and... over the side of my head where the ear had vanished.

It brought me back to reality with a crash. Legolas thought I was an Elf. I frowned, shifting sideways, ignoring his surprise. Hadn't he made out with me in Rivendell, offering the same point, that Elves were like this? Interested in fun?

"Sorry. I guess I don't ...like casual stuff." I muttered, cheeks reddening as I caught Boromir's stare, darting away. Legolas didn't chase me. Phew.

Boromir did. He followed, as I slid past, followed me out into the larger passage between the quiet nook and the campsite itself. When I was closer to the camp, he grasped my arm, sudden, yanking me and shoving me back against a wall.

"Have you no shame?" He hissed against my ear.

It was surprisingly violent and when I stared up, blinking, I saw why. That darkness was there. "It was just a-"

Lips crashed down on my own, harder, and the heavy hard body of Boromir pushed me up. This wasn't like the other, it was almost pure sexual, tongue in my mouth, one of his legs pushing up between my legs and grinding against that space that was most sensitive to touch. But it was over before I could react, like knee him in the balls or something, and ...I felt it. My own body reacting despite itself. How couldn't it?

Still, this was not okay. Legolas was … and I was not okay with this. I shoved at him, only for my wrists to be caught and pinned above my head, Boromir's teeth nipping my neck.

"Boromir, stop it!" I hissed softly, struggling, flinching as one of his hands slid up the front of the tunic, over bare stomach.

"Are Elves all you desire? Are Men, your own people, not good enough?" He nipped hard enough to bruise, I yelped, as the hand shoved itself down the leggings. Oh god. Boromir was loosing it. He shoved one hand between my legs, ignoring my struggles, but I managed to more or less keep his hand away from whatever the fuck he was searching for, simply by struggling. "Forget the Elves. Love me. Love my brother. I would give you to my brother, I would only accept you..."

I really thrashed, as he fought harder, all arousal gone. Was he fucking crazy? He just made it sound like he'd hope I'd marry his brother, and yet here he was, trying to grope me. "Boromir, I said no. Let me go." Somehow, I managed to knee him hard in the groin. At the same time, a frying pan hit Boromir in the back of the head, and he collapsed. I grasped the hand and yanked it out, anger and disgust, and fear, fear that I couldn't remember before. Had he meant to rape me or something? I didn't know.

"Wendy?" Pippin's voice, his hand, and I blinked at him as he stared down at Boromir. "Did he do anything?"

"N... no. No." I muttered, cheeks red, staring up. Legolas was there too, arms crossed, giving Boromir a look of such distain... god. "No. I think he was just a bit... I don't think he was himself." Mad?

"Pippin beat us to it." Aragorn, who I hadn't noticed, strode forward and yanked Boromir onto his back by the scruff of his neck. Boromir was out of it. Aragorn frowned, glanced up at me, and reached out to put a hand on my arm. "I am sorry, we did not notice faster."

"It's nothing, really." I kept my eyes down, avoiding their eyes. I still liked Boromir. I still wanted to trust him. This made no sense. But then, in a strange way, it did. No matter where Frodo and that ring was, no matter how far, that thing ...it toyed with us. It triggered things. And Boromir was the worst affected. "A misunderstanding. That's all. I really don't think he... I don't blame him."

I blamed that darkness that was creeping into him. Over the past three weeks I'd seen traces of that, more and more, but I'd seen the real Boromir too. The laughing, smiling, honourable man, who probably would have cut his hand off before he violated any part of any woman. Oh sure, he'd been a bit rude drunk, but …

I could still feel where his hand had pressed against my body, still feel shame burning in me, and tried to not look at Legolas. He had his bow in his hand. Had he intended on hurting him? Still, a frying pan wasn't a soft thing. Pippin was still staring at Bormor.

"Let us hope that has knocked sense back into him." Aragorn bent down to pick up the frying pan, lightly, and handed it back to Pippin. "Were there more water here, I would dunk his head in it. Legolas, can you watch him until he wakes, ensure he is safe?"

Legolas frowned a little more, eyes flashing to me, but he nodded. "I can."

"Come. Let us eat and rest."

I let Aragorn lead me back to the camp, his hand on my back, legs weak. Both he and Pippin sat on either side of me, which was a relief, because I didn't need Legolas adding to this tension. Boromir returned mid-meal, his eyes down, avoiding me. Legolas wasn't far behind him.

Boromir did not mention it, he didn't apologise, he didn't do anything. He behaved as if nothing had happened, smiling, joking, but I could see something else there in his face now. Not just guilt, but tension, even jealousy, particularly when I walked too close to Legolas or Aragorn. So I walked close to Pippin. He may have acted like a child but he was a grown man, technically, and had no illusions about what might have happened.

The tension growing in the Fellowship, we made our way slowly through Moria, through cave, mines, under mountain roads. It was stunning to think dwarves had done this. Sometimes I managed to forget the tension, forget Legolas' kiss, or the repell of Frodo and the thing he carried, managed to really see the beauty of the carvings in stone or the sheer scale of some of the caves they'd mined out.

One cave, this amazing vertical cliff, towered overhead, lined with silvery veins. I gazed around, amazed, as Gandalf stopped a moment.

"The wealth of Moria was not in gold...or jewels..." He moved his staff towards the gaping hole and the glow increased, brighter. The entire pit, above and below, suddenly lit up in silvery glow as the veins caught the light of his staff. I stared in awe while Gandalf continued. "... but Mithril."

Mithril. Hard as dragon scales. Light as a feather. Or something like that. I saw Frodo, suddenly, saw him and his ...uncle? Bilbo? Saw the entire scene, Frodo receiving a vest, Bilbo's reaction to the ring.

"Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him." Gandalf was saying, as I stood there, his staff back to normal.

Gimli, from behind, responded, "Oh, that was a kingly gift."

Gandalf sounded light hearted as he responded, "Yes! I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."

Dread crept into my stomach at that. Dread and loathing. The more I saw of this ring, the more I saw how people reacted to it, the less I liked it. The less I liked how it MADE me want it. Nothing should be desired that much. Nothing.

"Wendy?" Aragorn said softly, hand on my shoulder.

I moved forward again, following after the others, keeping eyes away from Frodo once more.

It wasn't far from there when we reached another amazing pit, a great tomb, and then great chambers. It was slowly changing from mines and caves, to city, more carvings in the walls, more intricate roads, and yet Gimli didn't say a word. He walked slowly on, eyes down, sombre. It must have been hard for him to see the city dead like this. I wondered how it'd look when it was alive with dwarfs, with fire, with laughter and song. How would I have felt if I'd walked through London, only to find it crumbling, the corpses of my people everywhere? To feel like we were a dying race?

I reached out to touch his shoulder at one point, as we crossed through what might have been a marketplace, and briefly he held my hand hard, inhaling slowly.

It was on the third day that we came to a crossroads, three openings, at the end of a very tall and very exhausting staircase. Or it was once. Now it was crumbling so bad that we all except, naturally, for Legolas, had to climb up it on our hands and feet, avoiding skulls, cobwebs and rubble. I knew Gimli was having a hard time like this. Not crawling- it wasn't so bad- but … seeing each skull, and wondering, wondering if it was someone he'd known. Someone he'd liked. Admired. Just someone he'd heard of.

I moved to stand near him as Gandalf froze at the top of the stairs, just to be comforting, avoiding Boromir's gaze as he walked past. I couldn't look at him right now. I didn't blame him... but I couldn't look at him either.

Gandalf's voice, soft, drifted down to us in the heavy still of the mine. "I have no memory of this place."

It baffled Gandalf then? Oh boy. That couldn't have been a good sign.

Aragorn got a fire going, as Boromir sat down heavily, his eyes distant. Aragorn, I noticed, was quick to sit beside him, and Legolas took about two seconds before he was standing behind Aragorn, facing Boromir, bow in arms. But maybe he was keeping guard. His eyes were on the darkness the staircase went back down into, not on Boromir.

Maybe not. I didn't know.

I sat down beside Aragorn, trying to relax. I couldn't face either of them right now. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted him to know about the attraction. The tension in the air wasn't much fun. This only released a little when Merry got his pipe out again and filled the air with smoke.

I gazed down and stared into the blackness too. There, for a moment, I thought I saw something. The reflection of eyes, maybe? A bat?

Or was it Gollum?

Gollem? A man, a little hobbit thing, with a worm. That was the only image my brain gave me with that name. It didn't make any sense. Did some hobbits have eyes that glowed? I'd have to ask Gandalf. Either way, Legolas either didn't notice or act concerned, because I heard no snap of the bow, heard no arrow whistle past, and the eyes were gone as fast as they'd been seen.

I reached for my own bow, just to touch it, tracing my hands along the edge slowly. It was beautiful, curved, and very simple. That suited me. Nothing in this world, nothing, felt as familiar to me as this bow in my hands. It was like I'd spent all my life touching them.

But I had.

I blinked as, for the first time, I really remembered something about myself. Yes, I had always been overweight, but I had also been a champion archer. I remembered metals, awards, competitions. My larger body had provided me with increased physical strength as a child and, from the moment I'd tried archery at school, I'd been already better than the others. So they'd encouraged me. They had hoped it'd build up my self-esteem, I'd been bullied for being fat at school quite a lot, and it did outside school. Outside school, I was respected. Inside school it was just another reason for the kids to make fun of me.

They did right into high school as well. But they stopped when I'd gone to the Olympics.

Woah.

I remembered. Going to China. The youngest female archer from Australia, going to the Olympics. I hadn't won anything but it had been one hell of a introduction to pro-archery. I'd gotten more attention than half the Australian swimmers.

"Wenduin?" Legolas said softly. "We're leaving."

I blinked up at him, standing, seeing the others already ready. My head was spinning with this, with China, with the Olympics, being bullied at school for being overweight and an archer, and I felt dazed. Nothing else came, not my name, not my family, nothing, but that did.

"Are you all right?"

I was trembling, I realised, and I nodded blankly. I followed behind him slowly, sliding the bow back. This was why London kept sticking in my head. I knew I was supposed to be going to London. Olympics. London. Were they in London now? I wasn't sure, it was confused, I was confused. I knew somehow that I'd been pretty bad in all other things, clumsy, unfit, I wasn't the best at school. I knew they would suggest that I was only pretending to be good. Or, when I was older, that I'd trade sexual favours for wins. They liked to draw comics about that. Anime style.

I bumped into Legolas, unaware he'd stopped, blinking again.

"Tell me what's on your mind." Legolas didn't move away, not to his usual spot behind Gandalf, and I breathed out. Told him. He listened quietly while his eyes stayed fixed on the darkness ahead, not speaking until I'd stopped rambling, and then finally, he glanced at me with that same expression he always got when he was about to suggest I was an elf and I'd forgotten. "I see. I am not surprised."

I wanted to shove him and remind him I wasn't an Elf. But there wasn't really time and he was already moving away, ahead. I hadn't told him about the bullying. It hurt all over again, as if I was experincing it for the first time, and I felt that familiar self-loathing return. They were less interested in me if I wasn't interested in myself. They didn't have a bubble to pop then.

I bumped into someone again, Aragorn this time, and he turned to place a hand on my shoulder.

"What?" I tried to see what it was past him. Why had everyone stopped again?

Aragorn went to open his mouth to answer, but before he did, Gandalf cut him off.

"efore long the Fellowship comes to a more open space. Broken ornate columns lie tumbled across the floor. Gandalf uplifts his staff.

"Let me risk a little more light."

Gandalf's staff glowed brigher, bit by bit, and great pillars started to come into view.

It was incredible. I had never seen such a massive place. Geninune awe filled me as I stared up, stared at near perfect pillars, with ornate and detailed carvings on each. They were old, very old, crumbling in places, but ...not as much as the rest of Moria.

"Behold: the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf "

"Incredible." I said softly.

This made Gimli's mood perk up, as he moved to stand beside me, and we started walking again. As we walked, he pointed at carvings, explaining them softly to me in his awed tone. I suddenly had more respect for the dwarfs than I ever had. They weren't just miners. They were artists. Artists that took the very bones and blood of the earth and created homes, art, beauty... it was incredible.

"Gimli, have you done htings like this?"

He actually flushed under that beard bright enough for me to notice and nodded, lifting his axe. "I have. This was crafted for me by my father."

I saw on the axe, more than just a weapon, so much more. More intricate carvings, words, and … love. This weapon had been made for him, by his father, to protect him. Wow. "That is a wonderful gift."

"All dwarfs receive their first axe from their fathers." Gimli's eyes went back to the great cavern as we made our way slowly through it. "But we have not created something such as this for many years."

We walked quietly, side by side, before Gimli moved to walk in front of me again. The place was massive, and we walked for an hour between these stone pillars, though it felt like a lot less time. I was fasinated. Even Legolas seemed to be distracted from watching the dark, his eyes grazing over each pillar as it passed, and his usual cold attitude towards Gimi had faded somewhat.

Gimli's cry of pain made me flinch, as he suddenly ran sideways, heading for where a patch of sunlight hit the stone.

"Gimli, no!" Gandalf shouted.

This time, I saw the future again. Orcs. Cave troll. Fighting. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of orcs. Flashes of it, it wasn't complete like some things I saw, but it was enough to make me want to piss myself. I saw it all and my heart sank as I grasped for the sword.

Gandalf was already too far away to tell. I rushed after them, glancing behind me, knowing exactly what was out there.

This was going to be a fucking disaster.

I followed in after the hobbits, more or less, with Aragorn and Boromir behind me. There was a cry of pain that made my heart twist in pain for him. After three days of walking past corpses of his own race, through a city that must have once been incredible, and three days of hoping that this one last dwarf still survived...

I finally saw him let the grief show. I had my hand on his shoulder, without thinking, and to my surprise, Boromir was there a second later with the other shoulder. Our eyes met over Gimli, before he dropped his gaze, guilt in his face.

He was trying to comfort Gimli though. There it was, that side of him that I did like, that side that was now tearing itself to shreads over the darker nature. Some part of my anger that remained now gave up, I couldn't be angry at him, because I knew what was fucking with his head. It was fucking with mine too.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." He is dead then. It's as I feared. " Gandalf's hand was brushing over the runes in the stone. This did not help Gimli much, and I grasped his shoulder tighter, squeezing it as he banged his helm against the stone.

Heavy deja vu was starting to crash down on me. I glanced at Gandalf but he was reaching for a book in the hands of a dusty corpse.

Beside me, Gimli was moaning softly with pain, openly weeping as something was spoken. I didn't understand it but I understood the pain in it. "Kilmin malur ni zaram kalil ra narag. Kheled-zâram ... Balin tazlifi..."

I remembered what had made me so anxious about this, suddenly, and glanced back at Legoalas. Come on, magic elf, read my thoughts. I opened my mouth but he either had already been thinking it, or was a real magic elf, and knew it was time to get out.

"We must move on." His eyes met mine and the tension in his face increased as he met Aragorn's face again. "We cannot linger."

Aragorn met my eyes as well and I gritted my teeth, staring past him at the open door, my hand still on the freed sword. Then I changed my mind and went for the bow. I'd have, what, twenty seconds of shooting arrows? Better make sure I could use this skill I apparently had because I knew I was pretty pathetic when it came to a sword.

"They have taken the bridge and the second hall..." Gandalf's voice echoed softly though the chamber, sending chills down my head, quietening Gimli. He was holding the book as he said, "We have barred the gates... but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes."

Oh yeah. It was time to run. I opened my mouth to say this but nothing came out. Fear was starting to creep back in, my mouth was dry, I couldn't make a sound. I could only see those orc things, the troll, and something much worse.

"Drums. Drums... in the deep." Gandalf continued, quietly, and even he seemed to have some hesitation. Maybe he knew we should be running? Probably. The page was turned, the sound frightningly loud in the quiet of this tomb, and I stared at the page, seeing the still red blood stained into the paper with the ink. "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark."

The fear was building, and it wasn't just me. Nearby, Merry was shifting closer to Gandalf, Frodo and Sam's faces white. We'd all spent the past three weeks shooting arrows at crows, wandering, swimming, laughing, telling stories. It had almost seemed like there was no danger at all.

Now, suddenly, I was sure we were all picturing it. Being trapped in this room. The wooden door barred, the sound of drums shaking the stone, shaking the earth. Knowing that just through that fragile door was death, and there was no way out, there was no way to escape. Knowing we'd die here, die a terrible death, knowing that everyone we loved had been slaughtered...

"We cannot get out..." The desperation in the words just added to it. Pleading. Their last words, written down, pleading to anything. Anyone. Maybe they knew that they would not survive, maybe they hoped one day someone would find this book, and know... and remember them. Know it was the last thing they had.

There was a sudden crash behind us, all of us whipping around, and I saw Pippin standing there white faced as something crashed down behind him. A corpse. Falling down a well, or something. There was sound, so much fucking sound, echoing around the tomb, down the well, and ...deeper, god knew how deep into mines, into rocks, probably knocking other things down as it went. The noise made me want to pee myself with fright, seriously, just for the brief comforting warmth.

Oh man, why hadn't I said no in Rivendell?

It felt like an hour before the noise stopped, though it was probably just a minute or two at the most, and even Gandalf's face had drained of blood. Yeah. If he was nervous then we probably had good reason to be angry at Pippin right now.

Boromir breathed out, and for a moment, I felt his hand close on my arm, holding it. Comforting me? But it was gone as fast as it was there and I tried to breathe too.

"Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf snatched the big felt hat and staff out of Pippin's hands. He looked just about angry enough to do just that, Pippin sliding away a few inches. We breathed out, almost all of us at once, relieved.

Okay. That could have been worse.

Drums.

I nearly yelped as a sudden two BOOM, BOOM, echoed around the mines, around the tomb, literally shaking the tomb so hard that dust fell, gravel under our feet bounced.

We all stared at the well.

BOOM.

I backed up at that, Gimli quickly getting to his feet, hand back on sword, heart thudding hard in my throat.

BOOM.

This must have been how the Orcs wanted to scare us to dea-

BOOM.

Boom, boom...

Then, suddenly, it was going, this steady rhythm. Frodo was glowing blue around his belt, and Legolas hissed, "Orcs!"

There was this sudden sound of calling outside, some kind of ...I didn't know what to call it, it sounded unearthly with the echos of the great city, with the drums, and Boromir reacted first. He rushed at the door. Arrows barely missed his face.

Aragorn rushed forward too, Legolas with his bow out, and I grabbed for mine. Arrows? Check. Bow? Check. Adrenaline?

"Protect Frodo." Legolas said softly, just loud enough for me to hear over the drums, and I nodded. Yep. That was the main thing.

I glanced back at the hobbits, seeing their terror filled faces, their swords in hand, these tiny three foot beings that really had no chance against what I'd seen. The urge to protect them overwhelmed the fear, just the look in poor Pippin's face, or how Sam was trying to keep Frodo behind him. If they could be brave, so could I.

"Understood."

"They have a cave troll." I heard Boromir say dryly. Yeah. I should have mentioned that. I gritted my teeth, watching as Legolas tossed weapons to Aragorn and Boromir, the two of them trying to bar the door.

A loud yell from behind me made me jump, Gimli shouting, his axe held so hard in his hand that his knuckles were white. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

There was a sudden pounding on the door, and I stared back, grasping for an arrow. Okay. This was it. Like always, as soon as I had the bow in place, the arrow in hand, it felt natural. Easy. Familiar. Fear was dancing around in the back of my head, my hand and arm were shaking, and the second I saw a hole, I let an arrow fly through the door into whatever the hell was trying to come in. Legolas was doing the same thing, I noticed, Aragorn on my other side, all three of us doing our best to ...wound them?

The door flew open suddenly, knocked off the hinges, the metal weapons used to block it going flying. Creatures flooded in, creatures like I'd seen, but even the vision hadn't been enough to prepare me for this. I let an arrow head for one, my nostrils filled with this stench I couldn't place, but seconds later they were just there, swinging some metal thing at me. Some sword connected with it, between my face and this massive weapon, and I saw to my shock that it was my sword.

They were strong though, and I tried to remember the training, to use their strength against them. Hadn't that been what Boromir had said? Protect Frodo, let their strength be their pr-

I cut it down, literally, the blade sinking through the orc's muscle, a spray of black blood spreading over arm, over ground, stinking hot blood that sent bile into the back of my throat. There was no time to be sick. There were too many. I knew I was backing up, as this wave of creatures headed straight for me, waving the sword, trying to breathe. Trying to be quick, instead of strong, like I'd been told. I hadn't been abandoned, not exactly, I saw glimpses of the others, but it was Frodo we were protecting. So I did my best, panting, sweat already pouring down, the bile burning my throat, using the blade to cut, to slash, a lot of blocking.

I didn't always defend myself that well though, I knew I was getting hurt, I could feel sharp pains here and there. It wasn't just that- their faces, they were... monsters. They weren't real, they couldn't be, could they?

Orc, cut, orc, slash, sword getting caught in their crude metal armor, some pain in my arm. I was sure I saw red, briefly catching a glimpse of Sam hitting an orc in the face with his precious frying pan, which gave me a brief moment of something that might have been amusement in a less deadly situation.

Legolas shoved me sideways, the sudden motion shocking me, but it saved my life, because where my neck had been, there was now a blade swinging, and an orc with an arrow right through one eye.

No time to thank him though. There was a crash from the front and something worse than orcs crashed in. A cave troll. Half the orcs had vanished suddenly, out the door, like they were just as afraid of this fucking thing as I was. I gaped at it for a precious second, this thing grey like the stone, with a squashed mess that might have been a face, this massive thing twice the height of Aragorn, thick, and some flimsy loincloth. Legolas, beside me, had already aimed, and I grabbed for the bow I'd slung over my back, doing the same. Yeah. Smart.

There was a shake of the ground, the troll slamming the crude thing in its hand into where Sam had been just a moment before, and I rushed forward to where Sam had ended up, trying to keep Orcs from cutting him into ribbons before he got to his feet, or being squashed by the troll. Or that was the idea. Something hit me, it felt like a bus, and I was slammed sideways into a wall.

When I glanced up, head spinning, the Orc's chain was being pulled on, with the limbs flailing. Somehow I climbed up, shaking my head, Sam climbing to his feet a few metres away. Our eyes met, before he headed straight for me, and I tried to do the sword thing once more, sliding the bow safely back over one shoulder. There were less orcs now, sort of, but they were braver. Nastier. Sadistic, because when one sliced me, there was this grin on its face, that chilled me to the bone.

I saw Boromir fly past me, into the wall, and headed for him, Sam vanishing for Gandalf once more. He lay there very still for a few seconds, as I tried to fight my way in his direction, but the orcs weren't helping. Did they care I was a woman? Was there was five of the stupid things heading for me? One of them had noticed Boromir though, as he, shaking his head, looking gazed. These nasty fucking things were going for the weak.

I didn't get to Boromir in time to protect him from the orc, I was too far away, but the orc stiffened suddenly. There was a sword in the neck, as it collapsed in front of Boromir, and Aragorn nodded to Boromir, before turning to charge at orcs.

I grasped Boromir, trying to drag him up, and he stood up groggily, blood trickling down his forehead. Then, suddenly, I was pushed behind him, and he was trying to take on the whole fucking pack of orcs by himself, apparently protecting me. Okay.

"Frodo!" I hissed softly, trying to get past, only to get shoved back.

"I will not let you get injured here, not after..." He swung the sword, hard, so hard that he didn't just behead one, he cut deep into the arm as well

There was an explosion of rock, suddenly, as the troll went for Gimli on the tomb. The tomb was destroyed, Gimli rolling safely to one side, but I saw no body come out... nothing. Empty tomb?

Boromir grabbed me and shoved me back into a corner, blocking me competely from exiting, but blocking anything from reaching me. . "I am responsible for your-" He swung the sword hard again, hissing in pain as something struck his side, "-safety."

Since when? I slammed the blade into one orc, under his arm, as t nearly got him. This was stupid. "Their safety! Remember?" To his surprise, I forced his head in the direction of the hobbits, hiding in the other corner.

Boromir hesitated. It gave me enough time to slip under his arm, sword out, swinging it. Screw training. Sharp bit goes into scary monsters. I got it. I thought I did, anyway, only to get a nasty cut across the hand, and to get dragged hard behind Boromir again. Legolas, I noticed, was playing with the troll now, on the head, and I felt my heart leap into my throat again as he nearly got tipped off. But of course, magic Elf legs Legolas was fine, leaping down easily. He was heading for us.

The troll, I realised, was heading for Frodo. Aragorn had noticed too.

"Frodo!"

Okay, this was bad. They shouldn't have been protecitng me. I was screwing this up.

"Legolas!" I pointed behind him, trying to shove Boromir forward so I could get out of this stupid corner he'd shoved me into, and Legoals turned, staring. It was too far away for him, even with his magical elf skills, with Aragorn the only one who could really reach the three hobbits.

I tried to wriggle out anyway, tried to get back to sword fighting or whatever, but Boromir, who was like some bloody rock, glanced over his shoulder at me. He actually looked annoyed, his face was taunt with pain and concentration, "You are a woman and a terrible fighter, Wenduin, and we cannot keep trying to keep you and the hobbits safe. Stay there, and stop distracting us!"

Ow. That really stung my ego. I thought I'd been doing good. I felt really bad suddenly, really knocked down, as Boromir turned. Now, when I didn't try and shove him away, he did move away some feet, and I stood there numbly. Felt tears prick, felt really hurt, my pride totally blown. So for a moment I watched him. The man was an incredible fighter, almost psychic, almost like he KNEW where each Ork would be before finding their heart... where as I had just been sort of waving it around, stabbing, hoping. Boromir was a lot of things and apparently 'incredible fucking swordsman hero' was one of them.

And Frodo was still being harrassed by a troll. Nothing I could do for him though, I couldn't even see him, just hear shouts now. The pillars were in my way. Aragorn sounded like he was there.

"Use your bow!" Boromir hissed. He actually looked annoyed. "Don't stand there."

Okay, stay there, don't fight, but do shoot arrows. I wanted to be angry but ...well, it was logical, and I shoved the sword away, trying to shoot. The first few shots weren't good, I felt kind of upset with myself, but I gritted my teeth, and shot, pain stringing through my arm. This, at least, I could do fairly well, managing to shoot orcs as he fought them. This made Boromir's job faster, and the annoyance had faded from his eyes. Instead, there was something else there, taunt concentration, this look … like this was what he knew. This was where he felt comfortable. This was his world, this world of ...black stinking blood, of sweat, and fighting.

"Aragorn? Aragorn!" Frodo's panicked cry caught both our attention, and Boromir froze, slamming the side of his shield so hard into the head of an Orc that it went down, head twisted to the side strangely, his breathing hard and fast.

"Frodo!" Aragorn shouted.

Now, we knew, it was time to go to Frodo. Seriously. It didn't sound in control at all. Boromir grasped my arm, shoving me along the wall, as he fought ahead of me. This was apparently how it worked. Me behind with the bow, him ahead, and it seemed to be working pretty good apparently. Aragorn's shout from ahead, just three or four metres, but it felt like … it felt like a mile right now, we just didn't seem to get more than a foot without something wanting to be killed.

There was a sudden gasp, something I couldn't quite make out, and Pippin and Merry's sudden screams. I did see them though, just as we managed to get close, the two of them leaping onto the back of the troll, trying to drive their swords into it.

"Stupid hobbits!" Boromir hissed, slamming his sword against a blade, shoving me back. Then he charged into the middle of the room, heading for an orc that had aimed a bow at the hobbits.

His words echoed in my head. I stood there, numb, staring as the troll was attacked, and only Sam's shout really got to me.

"Frodo!"

Oh god. Why was I hear? Guilt dogged me, Boromir had been protecting me and not him and...

I tried to shoot arrows at the troll, which really didn't work, they just bounced off the tough hide. The others were attacking it openly now- all the Orcs were more or less dead, and no more were coming through the door. Yet. I kept one eye on it, trying to help, Pippin trying to pierce the hide with his blade from above... Merry was in the troll's hand now, I saw it, feeling sick.

I moved forward, Boromir trying to shove me back towards the wall, but I ducked sideways and tried to help.

Legolas moved past, his bow in hand, his eyes fixed on the troll. He headed straight for it, aimed and …

The troll stood there, freezing, slowly reaching up for its mouth. What was going on? I stared, trying to keep up, and ...then it was dead, collapsing with a heavy thud. Pippin was thrown off, thrown into me, the two of us falling back onto the ground.

It was over.

I sat there, breathing hard, half winded from the force of Pippin's fall. He blinked groggily, shaking his head, staring up.

"You're bleeding."

I probably was, but that wasn't what worried me. Everyone was rushing to where I'd last seen Frodo.

Pippin shook his head slowly, his eyes hazy, before suddenly he exclaimed, "Frodo!" Scrambling to his feet, he darted away.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... I scrambled to my feet, chasing after Pippin, head spinning somewhat. What had I done, coming here? Boromir should have...why hadn't I accepted more training? I skidded to a halt beside Legolas, nearly crashing into him, and one of his hands grasped my arm.

Aragorn rolled the still body up and …

Frodo was alive.

I stared down, seeing Frodo blinking up at everyone, a giant metal object falling to one side. I breathed out slowly, relief flooding me, shutting my eyes. I heard Legolas do the same, sigh with relief.

"He's alive!" Sam was holding onto his hand hard, Frodo sitting there, clutching his chest.

"I'm all right, I'm not hurt." Frodo was having trouble breathing though, sitting there, something glinting through where his shirt had torn.

"You should be dead! That spear would have skewered a wild boar." Aragorn wasn't letting go of Frodo either. H

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf's face had relaxed now, and I swore I even sore a trace of humour there, as if this was a great joke to him. I glanced back to the door, anxious. Great. The words 'Frodo is safe. Pick him up, wrap him in bubble wrap, and let's get the fuck out of here.' were literally on the tip of my tongue. Who cared why he was alive, so long as he was, and …

"Mithril!" Gimli exclaimed. Oh yeah, that shiny mine stuff. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

We all heard orcs, heard that horrible cry of theirs, Gandalf meeting my eyes. I tried to gesture towards the door subtally but I was so shell shocked that it was a pretty obvious and jerky gesture towards the door.

He nodded a fraction, looking tired suddenly, and hissed, "To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

We ran. And now, now that I was running, I felt every wound, every scratch, even this burning sensation up my arm where something had cut fairly deep. But it didn't matter. We ran through the dark pillars, the beautiful ornate pillars that I'd loved just hours before, which now seemed more ominous and deadly than ever before. I had this urge to glance up and did, and wished I hadn't, because those monsters were crawling down pillars. Thousands of them. Thousands and thousands.

The pain of the wounds faded at that. I ran harder, trying to keep near Gandalf, urging my hurt body to really run. Screw being heavy. Screw being injured.

Then, suddenly, we were surrounded. I didn't see how many. All I knew was that we were surrounded, like a forest of Orc, and I was shoved back into the middle beside the hobbits, Boromir shifting to my side. They were hideous, gloating, staring at me like I was meat. Maybe I was. Did they eat us? Somehow I felt that they did. And I knew that we'd be dead within minutes.

Something slid into my hand suddenly and when I looked down, it was Merry, his hand around mine, his eyes on the certain death around us. Any second now, they'd pounce. Any second now, they'd...

There was a deep growl, something worse than any noise I'd heard here, something that sent an involuntary shiver right up my spine. Hair stood up. The growl echoed, echoed through the great City, around each pillar, and the ground shook. Not as it had earlier, with drums, but … it was an earthquake, I could barely stand.

There was a glow, suddenly, a warm glow and the Orcs panicked. They ran, screaming, crawling away, running, climbing, Gandalf's hand shaking on his staff. I turned to follow his gaze. We were completely alone now, completely abandoned, this thing... this growl... it had scared them away.

When I saw it, I knew what it was. Visions, memories, whatever the fuck it was, I knew what that thing was, and I knew that I didn't want to tangle with it. Somehow I knew that even Elves were afraid of this thing, so magic Legolas would be running too, that this thing killed everything.

Boromir's hand was still on my arm, I noticed, and he'd noticed me trembling. He glanced at me, then at the light, unsure suddenly. His grip had tightened on his sword once more. "What is this new devilry?"

I knew. I said it out loud, or I tried to, but … it only came out as a whisper, a croak, I couldn't speak. "Balrog."

Legolas, on my other side, stiffened, his face white, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked afraid.

"A balrog- a demon of the ancient world." Gandalf's answer wasn't a surprise to me or to Legolas, but the others didn't seem to get it, Aragorn had raised his sword, Boromir had let go of me to grasp his shield, like they were getting ready to fight.

"This foe is beyond any of you." Even Gandalf seemed afraid, somehow, and he turned suddenly. "Run!"

We ran through an arch, the glow from the Balrog radiating past us, burning so hot that I saw my skin start to turn pink, as if I was being sunburnt. Boromir's confidance had gone, I could see it, see his own panic attempt to take him over as he felt the heat too. He was ahead of us, running down the stairs three at a time, Legolas right behind him.

There was a shout suddenly, as I saw Boromir nearly go over the edge of a missing staircase, Legolas quick to grab him and drag him back by his sheer body weight, nearly tipping into me. I grasped both of them, and stared down, the hobbits beside me, staring in horror at the horrible drop. And the staircases without rails.

"Do as I say! Swords are no more use here!" I heard Gandalf shout, and Aragorn was moving, tugging at Frodo. They started down the staircase at a run, Gimli right behind, and I groaned... and followed. I ran, praying that I wouldn't trip, that I wouldn't fall, as I ran dwon the staircase, trying to avoid rubble, dirt, anything that'd trip me and send me falling to my death, adrenaline back, breathing in sharp panicked gasps. The roars were louder, the heat back once more, and it felt like it was RIGHT behind us.

There was a gap, suddenly, and Legolas leapt across. I was going too fast, too heavy footed, to stop, and found myself by instinct jumping as far as I could. I nearly fell, nearly twisted my foot on the other side, but Legolas was fast, grabbing at me and keeping me upright somehow.

"You really are magic." I panted, words barely understandable even to me, but he was already turning back up. I gazed up and stared in horror at the gap I'd just jumped. It was massive.

"Gandalf!" Legolas called. Gandalf jumped, Legolas grasping for him, and I backed down as Gandalf hurried to stand behind Legolas. Arrows hit the steps, just inches from my feet, and I jumped, nearly bumping into Gandalf again. Legolas turned, bow held up, and fired. I had to guess he'd gotten it- there were no more arrows.

Boromir grasped Merry and Pippin, holding them, and leapt, using all his strength to get him and both hobbits across the gap. There were more arrows, suddenly, nearly hitting Boromir, and I grasped Pippin as he was lowered down, Merry coming. Legolas was firing now, eyes narrowed, shooting at things in the dark I couldn't see. Boromir headed back up to the edge. Sam, seconds later, was tossed over, Aragorn easily moving him.

Gimli jumped. He couldn't jump as far, almost falling back, Legolas grabbing him hard by the beard.

"Not the beard!"

"Better the beard than the fall." I head myself snap, jumping as an arrow whistled past my ear, only remmebering that I didn't have an ear there. Lucky. Gimli didn't answer but he moved closer, stepping down, probably ready to get running again.

Only, I realised, Aragorn and Frodo were in deep shit. The ledge was literally breaking under them, the two of them scrambling up the stairs, getting higher and higher, and further and further from us. Shit. Shit. Shit...

There was a growl, a terrible growl, as the Balrog hit something, trying to break through the wall between it and us. Great stones fell from the ceiling, as big as cars, knocking the staircase above us, breaking parts of it off. It started to fall. With Aragorn and Frodo on it.

"Steady!" Aragorn shouted, his hand on Frodo's shoulder, as it tipped. His face was white, teeth clenched, as it started to tip sideways. "Hold on!" He leaned, probably by instinct, leaned for us. The stairs started to tip again, this time towards, us, and something in Aragorn's face snapped. "Hang on, Lean forward!"

Frodo leaned forward, more or less, and the stairs started to tip towards us, as more giant boulders fell around us, as the Balrog tore its way through the stone wall between us and it. Fire was licking through the cracks, showing just how close the Balrog was, just how close we were...

The staircase suddenly slammed into us, Legolas and Boromir catching Aragorn and Frodo, and we were running again, running as fast as we dared down the staircase and into a hall, through a tunnel, the Balrog just metres away. It felt like it. It sounded like it. It kept feeling like it was about to jump on us.

"There!" Aragorn shouted, pointing ahead, at where there was a narrow bridge. "Run!"

Flames suddenly exploded behind us, so hot that I saw the steam from my clothing start to rise, sure that I was blistering.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf shouted.

Then, suddenly, it was there. I felt it, felt it drop onto the stone behind us, glancing behind me and wished I hadn't. With a growl, this thing, this fucking awful thing, stood there, growling loud. But it wasn't like the Orcs. I saw it, I felt it, felt the cruel intelligence, this thing was a living, thinking creature. A predator. Something that was far worse than anything I had ever seen.

I ran harder, turning away, my entire body shaking as hard as it had in the snow. Bridge. Run. I barely saw how narrow it was, barely saw how deep the fall was, all I could see was the Balrog, knowing that this thing was worse than anything else.

At the other side, I ran into Aragorn, and heard a shout.

"You cannot pass!"

I turned, as Frodo screamed, "Gandalf!", to see Gandalf. Alone on the bridge with the Balrog.

The Balrong grew bigger, or it appeared to, and a whip cracked across it, spendng sparks, flames, flying, even as far as to us. It tried to hit him, maybe, or just scare him... I couldn't be sure which.

"I am the servent of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor..." Gandalf was saying, so clear, loud enough for us to hear, his staff glowing in brightness. "The dark fire will not aviail you, Flame of Udun!"

The Balrog attacked, or tried to, as it stepped forward and I stepped forward... only to be dragged back by Legolas, his hand on my arm. The whip didn't even pierce Gandalf's light, much to my amazement, and the Balrog roared again, fire and flame burning us all the way across the bridge. Yet, Gandalf still didn't budge, didn't move. He shouted now, shouted with such power that awe filled me, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

He slammed his staff into the bridge. It crumbled, breaking under the Balrog, and the Balrog fell.

I breathed out in relief, as the Balrog vanished, shutting my eyes. It was while my eyes were shut that it happened. What, I didn't see, but when I opened my eyes... Gandalf wasn't there. No, he was. He was clutching to the edge of the broken bridge.

"We have to get him!" I moved forward again, Legolas not stopping me this time, but Boromir hung onto Frodo. An arrow struck the ground in front of us. The Orcs had reappeared.

Gandalf hissed something, as Aragorn ran forward, something I didn't hear. Then he was gone.

"Noooooooo!" Frodo's pained shout filled my head, the cave, the chamber, and I saw more arrows raining down now, as more Orcs appeared on the other side.

Legolas was pulling at me again. I turned, glancing back, stunned. What had just happened? Gandalf, falling to his death? He urged softly, "Come on," but his face was stunned, as if he couldn't believe it either.

We burst out into sunlight, onto a mountain, sunlight that blinded and confused me. I stood there, numb, staring. Sam collapsed onto the ground, head in hands, shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Pippin was crying, Merry holding onto him, and Legolas stared at me, his eyes wide.

Gandalf was dead then?

I felt my legs give way at that and I sat there on the ground, staring, numb. I'd only known him for a few weeks but … his smile, his sense of humour, I'd liked it. I'd liked him. And I'd barely known him. He couldn't be dead. It didn't seem real.

Aragorn's voice came through my stunned mind, "Legolas, get them up."

Legolas pulled gently at my shoulder before heading for the hobbits.

I stumbled up, hearing Boromir plead, pain all over his face as he stood there. "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up." Aragorn wasn't even looking back at the cave. I stared at him. Maybe he was right. But I felt weird, like I could barely walk, my chest hurt.

He headed for Sam, pulling him up, and looked for Frodo. Frodo was far away, or trying to be, the glint of tears on his face as he stood there. I shut my eyes. It didn't seem real. None of this seemed real.

"Let's go." Aragorn said softly, suddenly, beside me. I stared at him. "Wenduin. Only half a day's run to the safety of the trees."

Half a day's run. I felt so exhausted, so weary, I just wanted to curl up and sleep. Nodding, I tried to muster energy, and went after him.


	4. Sancuary

A/N I have broken up the chapter into slightly smaller ones. :)

* * *

Aragorn made us run. We stumbled down the hill, I kept glancing back, half expecting to see Orcs on our tail. Pain grew worse, pain from cuts, scrapes, the wound on my arm feeling like it was on fire. My skin was burnt from the Balrog. No one else was in better condition, the hobbits stumbling, but Aragorn pushed us. Only when we'd reached the forest, only when he was sure we were in the 'safe' place, did he let us stop for a moment for a drink, food and to tend to wounds.

I sat there numbly while Aragorn pressed something into my wound, trembling, staring blankly. Had it really happened? It didn't feel real. Pippin sat beside me, Merry on his other side, eyes shut, the nasty cut on his scalp being tended to by Boromir.

"By nightfall, we will be safe." Aragorn reassured us, his eyes going to Frodo, who sat there quietly. "And will rest."

Frodo didn't answer. He stared at his hands, still trembling, mind somewhere else. I could guess where. Even worse, I felt it, I felt the power of that stupid thing around his neck. It was like the sadder he got, the better it got at fucking us all up, and no one seemed to know what to do. Aragorn wrapped my arm up, standing, and stared around slowly, as if looking for some more wounds. Maybe he was as clueless as we felt.

Legolas stood nearby, hands crossed, but he also looked shell-shocked. He kept staring back at us, at all of us, then to the dark. Water was passed around, food, but no one seemed able to eat or drink much.

"Come. We will continue." Aragorn glanced up at the sky. "We must reach the trees before nightfall."

I thought we were in trees. I was wrong though. The deeper we followed Aragorn into the forest, the more the trees changed, until we walked between ancient trees covered in most, the late afternoon sunlight turning the trunks golden. No one seemed able to speak for a long time.

When they did, it was Gimli who spoke, the only one who seemed to have enough energy to speak. "Stay close, young Hobbits! They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her, fall under her spell and are never seen again."

Frodo froze, staring around, and this seemed to please Gimli a little.

"That's kind of rude." I muttered, quietly. "If everyone who looked at her is never seen again, how do you know about her?"

"Huh?" Gimli stared at me.

"I mean, someone would have had to leave again, in order to tell everyone..." I flushed as he stared at me, shrugged. "Right?"

For a moment, I thought I saw Legolas smile, but when I looked at him directly I only saw that empty face. But he'd shifted closer, his arm now brushing against mine once more, and I was too tired to get into the 'hey, just because I magically appeared, wore funny clothing and have no ears, doesn't mean I'm some kind of elf' argument. But when he went to grasp my hand, I flinched, and Legolas moved away again without a single change in his expression.

"Well, not all are so easily caught. Here is one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk-"

I saw this moment in my head, as I did sometimes, knew what would happen right now. Despite the shock and grief I found myself feeling some amusement again. I stopped. Held up my hands. This foresight stuff was great sometimes. Legolas stopped and looked at me, puzzled.

"-and the ears of a fox!" Gimli didn't even get to draw a breath in before the Elves had an arrow at his head. More Elves appeared, almost out of nothing, pointing arrows at us.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark."

I didn't comment. I wanted to though. Everyone was so exhausted, so fucking grief stricken, that they could have done this to any of us. Even magic legged Legolas. He'd been just as out of it as Gimli had, just as unable to keep an eye out, and they'd snuck up on him too. But they taunted the dwarf. What was with this attitude between dwarves and elves?

I knew the Elf though. I stared at the blonde elf, the one who'd taunted Gimli, and he ignored me. Haldier? Something like that. This was that foresight thing again. I saw him, suddenly, saw him standing there. There was an axe in his skull.

He spoke to Aragorn and Legolas, ignoring the rest of us, and Aragorn turned to us. "We will go somewhere safe and rest for the night, to talk. Follow us. Weapons away." He mostly directed that to Gimli, I noticed. I'd have to ask Aragorn why Elves and Dwarves were so anti-social towards each other.

Right now though, I was tired, aching, and I could barely muster the energy to walk. So I kept quiet and made my way slowly after them, legs heavy, eyes down. Questions could be for later.

If there were Orcs following us now, we didn't hear about it, the nine of us completely surrounded by the Elves. They were, as I had realised most Elves were, fairly beautiful creatures. Glowing, clad in silvery-green, the cloaks so well suited to the forest around us, that if I didn't look directly at them, they appeared to drift in and out of reality, like they kept vanishing.

We were probably being guarded, not guided, but no one seemed the least bit worried. Gimli had shut his mouth for some time, standing close to Aragorn, face hidden under his beard and helm. The procession was fairly depressing though and my arm was starting to itch and burn again where it had been scratched. The skin looked kind of green. Aragorn hadn't seemed concerned so I ignored it.

After some time, we had to go blindfolded, and I did _not_ like this. As if I'd know one tree from another in this state! Still, rules were rules, and I stumbled behind Gimli, totally blind, completely paranoid about ...falling or something. Gimli kept stopping too, uncertain, and I kept feeling hands brush me from behind, one of the hobbits unsure about where the hell they were going.

The air grew cold as we stumbled onwards. It got dark, I had to assume, but it was hard to know. I was feeling kind of hot myself, actually, the heat from my arm going up. My head felt light, floaty, the ground kind of ...moved every now and then. I tried to keep my head straight to not make this sensation worse. Was it tiredness? Was I just fucking exhausted all over again? Probably.

Then, suddenly, I was sitting somewhere else. Just like that. One second I was stumbling, blind folded, and the next, I was sitting in a platform. Blindfold gone. Arm covered with clean white bandages. Completely disorientated.. I stared around, confused. I sat on a platform in the trees, made of wood that was almost silver. Leaning against some kind of rail. There were soft blue lights everywhere, and further away, the glint of silvery blonde hair here and there where Elves stood in the trees. My stomach hurt, I felt like vomiting, but all I could do was swallow. What the hell?

Aragorn was arguing with someone. I stared up at them, blinking, opening my mouth.

"What is it?"

"Why didn't you tell us it was a orc blade that cut you?" Boromir hissed. His anger took me back, and I hesitated, staring at him. He was sitting behind me. "This is why a woman should not be here. This is dangerous!"

"No one told her they were poison, Boromir." Merry muttered. He shifted over to sit near my legs, Pippin close behind, and stared up at me. "You feeling better?"

I nodded, numb, staring back at Boromir. He'd turned his back to me again, shoulders hunched, staring away into the dark blue glow of the trees.

"What happened?"

"Well, you fell on top of Gimli, and they saw your arm was getting all these weird ...green colours. So they carried you." Pippin almost sounded envious. "All the way up the tree. I tried to collapse too but they knew I wasn't really hurt..."

Just tired. He looked so tired. I would have carried him up at the sight of him, the dark shadows under Pippin and Merry's eyes, the way their hands shook, their faces drained of blood, clothing stained with dark stains I suspected was orc blood. Troll blood? Who knew. I sighed and reached out to touch Pippin's hand. It was freezing. "What about the argument?"

"The elf said we couldn't go any further." Merry explained softly. He glanced at Frodo, who was sitting alone in a corner, as guilty looking as Boromir looked. "They said he carried great evil here."

"And some words in Elvish." Pippin added.

"_And_ Gimli said something rude."

Gimli snorted, staring away, shaking his head. There was a massive bruise on his forehead under the helm, his helm now in his hands, clearly uncomfortable.

"And then they said you'd be fine and you'd wake up in a minute, and here you are." Merry finished. He held out his pipe. "Want a smoke?"

I shook my head and shut my eyes. Something else was in my hand, an oil skin, Merry adding, "Then have a drink of water. All of it."

I only meant to drink some but the second it touched my lips, this incredible fresh water, clearly not the stuff we'd carried through Moria, the second I couldn't stop drinking. Merry didn't seem that worried though.

"The Elves have more." Pippin stood up and wandered off towards some Elves, empty water thing in hand, holding it up. They took it and vanished down the tree, some stair I couldn't see, their silvery blonde hair glowing blue in the lanterns.

I sat back and stared around. Strength was slowly seeping back into my bones, my body, interest in the forest starting to return. The trees had to be massive, I couldn't see the ground, but above the canopy I could see traces of stars. Silvery blue lights dangled from the trees, movement here and there where Elves went, and a building that looked like it had grown from the silver-white trunk itself some fifteen metres across a large dark gap between the trees. There was a cloud around us, I realised, or a fog, and that was why the place seemed to be glowing blue- the moisture in the air was catching the light and spreading it.

The urge to get up and stand beside Legolas rose, but as I stared at him, he was standing just behind Aragorn. He looked at home here, as magic as the other Elves, this unearthly thing about him returning. How had I forgotten how different he was? I sat back down, breathed out, shut my eyes. Why had I wanted to go to him anyway?

Legolas had turned to look at Frodo, this tired look in his face, and as he turned away from him, our eyes met. That urge returned, the urge to go to him, to keep him company, but...

"Gandalf's death was not in vain...nor would he have you give up hope. You carry a heavy burden, Frodo...don't carry the weight of the dead." Boromir's voice and words surprised me. He sounded sad, tired, and I suddenly felt my irrationwith him fade. He was hurting and yet he'd been the only one to try and comfort Frodo.

I sighed, shut my eyes, and tried to think. Maybe Boromir had been right. I nudged his side, slowly, and he turned to face me. There wasn't dislike there. Just frustration and stress. I had, after all, turned him down more often than not when he'd tried to train me. Maybe he blamed himself for Gandalf. Maybe the stress of that ring was getting to him. Who knew.

"Boromir, can you teach me to defend myself better?"

It seemed to be the right question. He nodded, slowly, his hand coming to rest on my good arm. "Of course."

"And us too." Merry said quietly. He met Pippin's eyes, who nodded. "Please."

"I will help all of you. You need not be defenceless." Boromir agreed quietly. He grasped my arm once more, squeezing it, and turned back to gaze into the darkness.

The blonde elf, Halder or something, finally moved towards us. We gazed up at him, tired, exhausted, the idea of having to get back onto a dangerous road, to fight, to run... I didn't know if I could do it now. I didn't know if any of us could. We were tired, injured, and Gandalf...

"You will follow me."

"We must rest first." Aragorn said softly. "Please."

"You will be safe here. We will leave in the late afternoon. Injuries must be tended to first." His eyes hadn't gone to me but I suspected he meant me.

We were brought to one of the platforms higher up. Packs were rolled out, beds made, and I crawled into mine without being able to really think about it. The second I was down, I passed out, curling up on my side. It felt like one of the hobbits was near my legs, maybe, but I didn't really care.

Every now and then, I woke through that night, as Elves moved past. Saw them kneeling beside one of the hobbits, or the men, even Gimli, or Legolas, maybe with water. Or with healing stuff? But I slept, slept so deeply and securely, that I didn't really know what they were doing. Sometimes I was offered water though. I'd drink it, go back to sleep, like I was drugged. Maybe I was drugged. Maybe we were being drugged so we'd rest.

I slept right through the daylight as well, only getting up to relieve myself, but I barely remembered it. It was only mid afternoon before I really started to wake up properly. Even then I felt exhausted, drained, numb. We were offered bathing water, to wash our faces, and I moved away into a private place to change. Why, I had no clue, but apparently ...we had to look good. So I changed into something that wasn't dirty, leaning against a tree as I did.

As soon as we had changed and had some food in us, Haldir started for the safety of ...wherever the hell it was. I didn't even care.

We followed him back down the tree and into the forest, following some path I couldn't see, along ridges, forests, over creeks. I kept staring at the Haldir's scalp, kept seeing him dying, and swallowed. What was I seeing? Why was I seeing him die? I wished Gandalf was here, I wished I could ask him. How would he feel about me telling someone how they'd die? But at the same time … it didn't seem right. Why didn't it seem right? I didn't know. I was too tired and confused to know what to think

Sunlight was on us though, warm easing sunlight, which did help with the aching muscles. I walked quietly behind Frodo, nearly bumping into him as we stopped, Haldir pointing ahead over a cliff I hadn't even noticed. The sun was setting, casting warm light over us and the forest, and ahead was...

Was it a forest? I was sure I'd never seen anything like it.

"Caras Galadhon...the heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

Galadriel. Through my tiredness, I saw her suddenly, saw her as clearly as if she was right there. A vision thing? Or what? Incredible blue eyes, staring at me, staring into the depths of my soul.

"Come."

I gazed once more at this place, this great hill of trees, or were they trees that grew at different heights? It stood high above the rest of the forest, the green leaves golden in the dying light, mist around the base of the rise of trees, like a silvery ocean. It looked like an island almost.

The walk wasn't a fast one though, we stumbled down the slopes, our weary legs struggling to keep us upright on the difficult path. Then, across the valleys, we had to suddenly go uphill, and again I noticed we all trudged slowly. Legolas, even, was quiet and slower than usual, his presence always in the back of my mind. It felt like he wasn't okay. I moved to walk behind him.

The higher we walked up the hill, the greater the trees were in diameter, until they were as wide as buses, as tall as skyscrapers, these things with great spiralling pathways that led up into the canopies. There were lights everywhere, soft green grass, moss, paths, flowers, sculptures. I saw it, or tried to, but ...my eyes were really on the spiralling paths. Didn't they have lifts?

When we headed for one, I sighed softly, shutting my eyes a moment. Of course. One last huge hike up a tree. Why not? No wonder why Pippin had been so envious of earlier, when I'd been carried up.

"Not far." Legolas said softly, glancing back, his hand grazing my bandaged hand.

I trudged slowly up the stairs, eyes on each, ignoring the beauty. Tried to break it down, get myself to walk five steps at a time, which made it a little easier. I was breathing hard though, legs literally shaking, and I wasn't the only one.

The higher we got up, the more the light changed, until we were in this soft silver light once more. I thought at first it was the lanterns again but when I looked up, I saw the moon, full once more. Where had I last been when the moon was full? Bathing with the Fellowship, that was right.

"To there." Aragorn gave me a gentle push and nodded up.

There, just one or two more times around the thick tree, was a platform. A glowing building. Of course. To find the head Elf people... just look for the part of the tree that glowed the most.

We were stared at as we made our way up the last of the tree. Elves came to stare at us from balconies around, each as beautiful as the next, their faces passive and expressionless. I felt self concious about my body once more, my panting, face going red as eyes went over me. So this was why everyone wanted to change into nicer clothing? Suddenly made a lot of sense.

Finally we reached the platform though, another silvery white platform, maybe made of stone or something. I moved behind Legolas to stand behind the hobbits, breathing hard, wishing I could lean against something. Gimli, at least, had an axe to use.

There was a glow, suddenly, this incredible warming glow. It eased the pain out of my body. I gazed up slowly, expecting to be blinded, but nothing. It was just … light. Light that soothed me. And there, coming down the stairs with the grace of no Elf I'd seen before, was … two beings. I couldn't call them just plain 'Elves'. They were something else now.

The male spoke, quietly, his eyes fixed on each of us. "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, yet nine-" I knew he had remembered me. He paused, and corrected himself, "Ten set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him...I can no longer see him from afar."

The last statement surprised me, the pain of what had happened in Moria hitting me suddenly, that ...we had really lost him. That he wasn't around. He wasn't going to pop up. I shut my eyes, a welling of pain hitting me, swelling in my throat. Why hadn't I been able to see it and save him too?"

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow." The woman's soft voice did not help. She actually sounded sad, to my surprise and I opened my eyes to see true grief on her face.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth." Legolas spoke up from beside me. There was a trace of bitterness in his voice as he added, "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

That was harsh. Gimli's head dropped. I moved closer to Legolas, brushing his arm with mine, and felt him tremble against my arm. The urge to fling my arms around the Elf and hug him like crazy filled my head. That same urge was for Gimli though, and the hobbits, and … well, everyone.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose. Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin." The woman spoke quietly, her voice soothing, her eyes drifting over us. Galadriel? Her eyes were so familiar... "For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

Boromir inhaled softly, and when I glanced at him, he was sobbing quietly, his eyes down, body shaking with emotion.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

Thanks, Captain Obvious. I shut my eyes. Anxiety came back. Suddenly, I was fixated in Galadriel's eyes, suddenly... her voice was in my head. She spoke quietly as she stared at me, speaking to all, but...

_'There is always choice and freedom. Nothing is written yet.'_

That was it. I stared at her as she spoke quietly.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true." Galadriel's voice was like a spell. I got it suddenly. The Enchantress. She was in a way. **"**Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

Some energy returned into me, some warmth flooding me, easing the pain. Quietly I followed the others back down the tree, following an Elf, to where a small shelter was already waiting for us. Another was waiting too, a woman, grasping something in her hands.

"You will all bathe tonight." The Elf informed us quietly. Her eyes went to me. "The Lady will come with me."

"I, um..." Felt weird about leaving them. Was that strange? After everything, even though I'd loved time alone before, suddenly it felt weird to leave the rest. I glanced back though, at the others, but they were being led somewhere else, probably off for some bath of their own. "Are they bathing too?"

"Yes." She turned and walked off. I hesitated only a second longer before following the Elf.

I was led along the path, my boots sounding heavy on the grass, through trees. Elves turned to stare at me openly. For a moment I thought I saw a child up high in one of the buildings, just for a moment, but I wasn't sure. Did Elves have children or just magic themselves out of fairy dust? It was another question to ask good old Leggy.

The place I was bathing seemed to be a 'general' bathing area. It was under a very wide short tree, compared to the rest anyway, this hollow lit by the lanterns and candles. It was tiled with blue and white tiles, patterns of flowers, stars, landscapes created out of shards of the tiles.

Pools of water rested in nooks around the edge, wide enough for one or two adults to sit, but they were very deep and very clear, the water slightly green. Not the sickening 'polluted' kind either, which would have put me off pretty fast, but rather it was the 'this has minerals you'll love' kind of green. Steam rose from each pool, little waterfalls of clean water ran down the inside of the tree into the pools, and I noticed that all the pools drained away into a silver grate in the middle of the 'room'.

Mirrors reflected the light, reflected my face around, and I stared at myself. This room was beautiful, fragrant, lovely, with delicate candles, tiles, and bathing pools.

I, on the other hand, still looked like I'd bathed in mud.

"Clothing off." The woman started to pull my boots off, ignoring my squirming, throwing aside the boots as if they were garbage. I knew she'd probably do the rest if I didn't', so I peeled off the clothing, trying to breathe as I did. Was she staring at me? She had to be staring at my body, still overweight and curvy, because it had to at least be twice her size.

I caught myself in the mirror again, completely by accident, and the first reaction was to stare away quickly.

But... I had lost weight.

I stared at myself in the mirror, shyly, as if it was a stranger I was looking at. It kind of felt that way still. I had lost weight, things were thinner, things didn't rub together as much, and the jiggles were less. I wasn't thin. Not even close. But... I had gotten fitter.

Quickly I went for the nearest narrow pool of water, partly to escape her stare and the mirror, wading quickly into the small space. It was as deep as I'd suspected, quickly dropping away into chin deep water. It was so hot too, almost stung my body. It really stung my arm and I lifted it up, staring at the long cut, face to face with blackened skin and a kind of putrid looking wound.

"The water will heal." She dropped handfuls of something into the water around me, dried flowers and leaves, before turning to gather up the armful of clothing. "We clean these. Here." She put soap down, turning, and went to stand outside as I floated there.

I hadn't meant to stay long but the water … but it was impossible to move. There was a kind of seat in it, which probably doubled as the step to get out again, and I sat back in it as I shut my eyes. The heat of the water lulled me into a daze, the cool trickle quenching my thirst, and when I felt a stirring of hunger, food suddenly was placed beside me. Even the soap wasn't really needed... the motion of the water was slowly moving away the dirt, grime, blood and nastiness, leaving me with just pale skin. And it was so warm. Volcanic? It somehow made me think of hot springs.

I scrubbed slowly, little seeds massaging my skin. Then I tried it with my hair, the grimy tangles vanishing as the soap cut through it. I could hardly believe I'd been so dirty, I thought as I stared at my arms, how had I gotten that nasty? I shut my eyes and rested against the side of the pool.

When I did, I slept, and everything that had just happened danced across my vision. Gandalf. Blood, black blood, all of it. It just added to the nightmares and I woke with a start, heart thudding, breathing hard.

"Clothing is here. I wait outside." I slid up slowly, grasping for some kind of rough cloth I guessed was for drying, and reached for the tunic and leggings.

No tunic. No leggings. A dress.

I wanted to swear as I lifted it up. It wasn't fancy, just a plain dress that was slightly softer than cotton, dyed dark blue and grey, long sleeves and a neckline edged with tiny flowers. Real ones, I realised, behind a layer of fabric so fine that it was transparent. It was also heavy with fabric, lined, looked pretty warm. There was even a shawl with a hood matching.

I tugged it over my head, pulled on the undergarment things, and the leggings that I found folded nearly underneath."Dressed. Okay."

Shawl was thrown over one arm and I followed her back.

"-the grief is still too near."

Legolas voice drifted towards me. I came around to see him standing there, silver jug thing in his hands, as if he'd forgotten what he meant to do. He stared at me for a long time, then at the jug in his hands, and moved to the fountain with a quiet exhale. I went to stand beside him, reaching out to touch his arm, admiring the silvery tunic thing. Had he carried this all this way?

It kind of reminded me that he was supposed to be a Prince of some kind.

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them." Sam's voice drifted out from the roots of the nearby tree. There, I saw our packs, and some of the beds already made up. Gimli was already fast asleep, Aragorn near him. Sam was making his bed as he spoke. Where was Frodo? "The finest rockets ever seen, They burst in stars of blue and green." A snore from Gimli cut in, Sam ignoring him, as he continued, "Came falling like a...rain of flowers… Oh, that doesn't do they justice by a long road."

"Are you all right?" I said quietly to Legolas. He had smiled somewhat, gazing into the hollow at the hobbits, but he was barely moving. He stared back over me. The elf looked so haunted.

"Death is..." Legolas turned , slowly towards me, the now full jug clutched in his hands. He stared down at it. "New."

Oh. Elves. Living a long time. I reached out to touch his hands on the jug. "Don't Elves have stories about what happens after death?"

"Yes, but we see so little." Legolas moved away. "I need to walk alone."

No invite either. He headed off, not glancing back, vanishing into the shadows. Aragorn moved past for Boromir. I hesitated, before following, not sure what to do. Legolas seemed out of it. Boromir was looking pretty stressed too, some distance off.

"Take some rest. These borders are well protected."

Boromir gazed up, his eyes meeting Aragorn's eyes, then it moved to me. He stared back down. "I will find no rest here. I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, "Even now, there is hope left." But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope. "

Aragorn sat beside Boromir, and I glance d back, wondering I should... make my bed or something. But a hand grasped mine and before I knew it, I was pulled onto Boromir's free side. He wanted me to hear it too? Okay then.

"My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now our…our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I— I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored. Have you ever seen it Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?" Boromir sighed quietly several times during it, his hands meeting again, his attention on Aragorn. But as he described it, his home, something returned. The tiredness faded somewhat, the darkness, the sadness, it seemed to vanish as he pictured his home. I gazed sideways at him as he stared into the ground, seeing it in his mind, the very memory of it bringing him energy again.

" I have seen the White City, long ago."

" One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call: "The Lords of Gondor have returned!" Boromir's energy increased slightly again, his eyes meeting Aragorn's eyes, with none of the resentment I'd seen in his face when he'd first discovered who Aragorn really was. Now there was just respect. To my surprise, he'd grasped my hand suddenly, and met my eyes. "And I will show you it all as well. Faramir. The white city."

This reminded me of that moment in the mines, and I shifted uncomfortably, wondering. Had that been the madness talking, that 'I want you to marry my brother', or was there truth in that? Did he really hope for it? But I said, "I really do want to meet him," as I suddenly wondered where the hell Legolas had gone to. Sort of. Aragorn met my eyes. I was okay. Boromir wasn't in that dark place. He was just sad. "And see your home."

But, just in case, I stood up and hurried for the tree. No point... tormenting him or something. I made my bed, slowly, and crawled into it, exhausted.

Things weren't going to plan. I knew it. We all knew it. I fell asleep, feeling strangely desperate and guilty, and lost. How to get to Mordor now...

It was starting to feel hopeless.

I slept very deeply, curled up on my side, deeper than I had in memory. No nightmares. Just songs. Songs that I remembered, songs from my life, music I used to love. I remembered only joy- the thrill of being a winner, of being respected, the awestruck sense I got when someone would walk up to me and say I was an inspiration... after spending so much of my life being taunted, it was almost unreal.

When I woke, it was still dark, and a warm body lay curled up against my back, an arm thrown over me, a soft inhale and exhale tickling the side of my face. Opening one eye, I saw Frodo asleep a few feet away, Sam right beside him, the other members of the fellowship fast asleep still. The light was almost non-existent out there and I guessed it was still night.

So who was it behind me?

Boromir was the first thought and I twisted around, trying to not wake them, concerned. But it wasn't Boromir. It was Legolas, fast asleep, so close that I could feel his heart against where my arm was pressed against his side. He moaned softly in his sleep, pulling me closer, and I realised it was the first time I'd really seen the Elf sleep.

Breathing out slowly, totally at ease, I shut my eyes and drifted back into an easy sleep, the smell and warmth of this other body in my mind, body and spirit.

I woke again, feeling the strange sense of being lifted, and opened my eyes wearily. Legolas was awake, the others asleep, and carrying me. Where? I wasn't sure. I blinked slowly, trying to urge myself to wake, muttering, "What...?"

"Need to talk privately. Sleep privately. Boromir is watching too much." Legolas yawned. He looked like he wanted to go back to sleep, he looked buggered, which was a pretty rare look for the magic energy bunny Elf, but he lifted me down slowly.

"Where to?" I glanced around.

Legolas nodded ahead, and moved into the quiet of the great trees, his feet barely making a sound on the grass. I followed him quietly, kind of suspicious, but he only led me to a tree some thirty metres away, also covered by some kind of shade. It was fairly small looking.

"This was for you." Legolas explained, when I stared at it, before moving inside with a duck of his head.

"To sleep in?" I followed him in. The sight of what was inside really answered me. It was a simple bed roll, just a pillow and blankets, and it took up half the little space inside the roots. There was a jug of water and a goblet as well.

Legolas went to sit down, yawning, and I sat down beside him awkwardly. My sleep had started to fade enough to return to the usual 'close contact- embarrassment/insecurity'. But he just tugged me against his side and lay down, forcing me to do the same. Well... offered. I could have easily stayed up. But why refuse him? It wasn't a bad idea.

"You ain't staying, right?" I mumbled. Legolas just sat up, dragged the blankets back over both of us, and flopped back down. "I might actually go... back. To sleep near the others. Fellowship, remember?"

"Boromir." He twisted over to stare at me, leaning up on one arm. Some of Legolas sleep had vanished now and he regarded me carefully. "Is watching you too much. Sleep here for tonight."

"Hey, Leggy?"

The reaction to the nickname was kind of funny. Legolas actually blinked at me and twisted his head, as if he was wondering if he'd been too sleepy to hear me correctly. "Yes?"

"_Frodo_." I rested my head back onto the cold pillow and shut my eyes, breathing out, the sleepiness returning. "That's the priority. Besides... he's not that bad. Really."

I felt the mat sink as the heavy body beside me lowered himself down. I yawned again, breathing out, feeling the stress ebb back out again. So what if he wanted to sleep here? He was warm.

"What did he say to you?"

"Just that … I need to train more. So you can all make sure you protect him." The actual words danced in my head and I felt my heart twist painfully. Something about 'you're a chick and you're distracting us from Frodo, stop it'... but he might have had a point about the distracting part. Frodo almost got cut in two by a giant spear. Gandalf had... now something else twisted in me, that sadness, I felt the emptiness that Gandalf left behind. "He sometimes says harsh things but I think … I think he's trying to do the right thing. Frond's got to be protected for a long way yet so Boromir's right."

"You care for him."

"I care for all of you." It was true too. I opened one eye, finding a grey eye just inches away, and there it was. That haunted face. "Are you doing okay?"

Legolas didn't speak for a while, he twisted to lie on his back, and stared up. His reply was so soft I barely heard it. "I ...am not doing well with the idea of death. I feel I need to speak to him, only to remember ..." There was something there in his voice as he trailed off, a tremor, and he muttered, "... and to think, I may have been fast enough to..."

"You blame yourself?"

"Who else in the Fellowship could move quickly and lightly, so as to not break the bridge? Aragorn was too heavy. If I had..."

"Hey, no." I slid up and stared down at him. "Not your fault. Not anyone's fault."

"I know. But these thoughts do not leave me." Legolas shut his eyes. One his his hands rose up, running along my back, sending shivers down my spine. He tugged me back down, right up against him, grief threatening to break through the mask he was barely hanging onto. That was all it was. Masks. Elves just wore masks to hide how human they really were. They just had longer than us to perfect them. "Does death always come with so much regret?"

I shivered at his desperate tone, this whisper that almost was too soft to hear, Legolas's hand shaking on his stomach. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe that's why... you can't hold things back. Or leave things for tomorrow... because death comes, and you can't know when it'll come." Haldir sprung to mind there and I frowned. "Or what to do when it comes. You know. Live every day as if it was your last, kind of thing."

He didn't answer. I lay back down beside him and shut my eyes. Funny world. Dwarves, Elves, hobbits, humans, everyone dealing with shit differently. "You want to sleep here?"

"Death comes at any time?" Legolas said softly. He shifted up, I felt him move to tip my head towards him, and when I opened my eyes he stared at me. "Then let us not ...leave things to tomorrow. I want to know to know your body."

Woah. I froze, the words so blunt, so straight to the point, that I had to admit, it did something. That hand on my back, suddenly meant something else, that closeness he'd insisted on, and … woah. When the hand slid down, and drew the long dress up my back, I knew he didn't mean in a platonic friendly way.

"_Why_?" The word slipped out before I could stop it. I stared at him. "Don't you have lovers?"

"Yes, I did." Legolas shifted back up again. The grief was there, somewhat, but so was that other look. That intense look he'd had when he was drunk. "I would like you now. Live every day as if it was your last."

"I don't do casual stuff." I was having trouble with that though, as I felt the hand slide up my bare back, dress completely up over my hips. The touch sent ripples of electricity throughout me. "I mean, I … " I was fat. What the hell was wrong with him? "You have better choices everywhere. We're surrounded by beautiful Elves."

"You think your body does not arouse desire?" Understanding dawned in Legolas face. He suddenly flipped me onto my back, shifting his body over mine, one of his knees between my legs before I could breathe. "It has shape. Strength. I have met no Elf maiden with strength such as yours in her body. I don't fear to break you if I am not gentle."

Heat burnt in my face. The blankets were over us, he could see right down to my bare legs and the undergarments, and he moved to shift his other knee between my legs. This was serious. "You're serious, aren't you?" And when the hell wasn't he gentle?

His weight fell on me, as his lips found mine, with the same intense kiss we'd first had, but there was desperation too. And roughness. He was seriously rough, his hand grasping my breast almost painfully, his kiss hard and bruising. Weeks of desire, maybe, or maybe this was what he really was like. I panted as our mouths parted, staring at him, all control gone in his face. All masks.

"Mortal ...lives are so short. Why do you waste them?" He whispered against my lips, trying to peel the dress over my head. "I will not hurt you. Let us take comfort in each other. There is no shame in desire."

It was a good question and I didn't have an answer, only a dress that slid over my head, and then he was trying to pull his tunic off. A button flew as it ripped slightly. Legolas ignored that, bending down, and pressed his lips against sensitive skin on my neck, his hips pressing up against my legs. I could feel it, under his tunic, this hardness that ran against the inside of my thighs.

His grey eyes met mine, waiting, waiting for me to say no. and when I didn't speak, Legolas tore the undergarment down the middle, exposing my chest. He inhaled slowly as he stared at my breasts, shifting up, my face red as he reached over to stroke his fingers over one.

I wanted to apologise suddenly for being fat... but he didn't seem the least bit put off, and I lay there in awe, as he bent down to kiss each tenderly, like he loved them. Didn't see the fat, or the jiggle, didn't see any of it... was it only in my head, that I was so big? It turned me on so much, my body was throbbing, my breath coming in faster pants as he reached for the leggings. "You sure? I mean... there's probably... so many who would be interested." Right?

"The body of a woman." He murmured, fingers running down my side, and I wriggled. "The shyness of a maiden. Yes. I have wanted this for weeks." Legolas tugged at the leggings, sliding each over a leg, his hands grazing my legs as he threw them to one side. I wanted to close my legs, wanted to hide, but he grasped my ankles and pulled them open, eyes fixed unashamedly where he wanted to be. "Let me."

I couldn't say yes or no, I felt so... desperate. I _wanted_ to be touched now. I nodded, legs shaking, and watched him pull his own leggings down slowly, kneeling between my legs. Why was I so _scared_? And fucking turned on?

It was dawn before he was exhausted, and by then I was almost falling asleep in his lap, bruised, bitten, even bleeding, and ...satisfied. Okay. The gentle magic weightless Elf became something else in bed, apparently, because he wasn't that gentle. He'd tried to be, when we'd both discovered I'd been totally inexperienced and had bled all over his legs, but there was this minimalistic side of him that shocked me and ...well, turned me on.

Then he'd gotten slower, more careful, and gentle. Probably to do with how tired he was.

He sat there, worn out, arms around me, and I sat in his lap. Magic perfect elf was gone, he was sweating, panting, hair all over the place, sticking to his skin, as human looking as I did, and as worn out. Legolas leaned against me and shut his eyes, his breathing slowing, legs shaking under my thighs. Blood was all over his legs. My blood? That was right. It'd hurt at first. It looked like less than I remembered though... just a tiny bit. It'd seemed like a LOT last night when it'd shocked us both.

He gazed down at it, kissing my neck as he did, arms releasing me and hands stroking slowly down my arms. "Maiden?"

"Not anymore."

"I should have not gone so long." Legolas shifted down, slowly, pulling me into the bed with him. I lay there and shut my eyes, while a blanket was pulled over us both, his sweaty body sliding as close to me as possible. He murmured something to me in Elvish, something I still didn't understand, one of his hands brushing the hair out of my face again. Whatever it was, it felt good to hear, and I felt myself smile for the first time in days. He brushed his hand over where his teeth had grazed my shoulder. "Or so rough."

"More fun than fighting orcs. Sleep and relax."

He didn't have to say it twice. Content, I fell asleep, my heart full with the warmth and peace that seemed to have finally found me.

This fuzziness continued long into the day, through meals, and constantly I found myself meeting Legolas eyes. That grief was still in his face but ...there was that smile too, when we'd meet eyes, that secret smile that would make his lips twitch and him turn away. Yeah. I felt it too. I had to admit it hadn't been such a bad idea. Still, I wished I didn't hurt so much, sitting was hard!

"We must stay here for a week, at least." Aragorn was saying, as we all ate in a circle. "Orcs patrol the borders. The Elves will clear them before we continue."

"Are you in charge now?" Merry asked. He didn't seem annoyed, just curious, but it kind of made Boromir shift in his seat.

Aragorn didn't seem that comfortable with that question and he glanced at Boromir, Gimli and Legolas. "We are a Fellowship. We all have say."

Boromir was probably eager to get away, I suspected from what he'd said before, but all he said was, "The less orc we have to fight, the faster we move" and glance at Frodo.

"Exactly." Aragorn replied. "So we remain and we train."

We wandered around in a daze for several days, sitting around, like none of us were really able to do much except eat, drink and sleep. And, despite being in a city of Elves, we didn't see as many as I might have expected.

Mostly the Fellowship was left alone and left to recover, injuries healing quickly for all of us, our bruises and aches fading quickly.

Lothlorien was almost like a dream. A safe, comfortable dream, in which I found myself lost somewhat in this new 'agreement' with Legolas, in the food, in the comfort. But Aragorn didn't let us get too distracted. We trained harder than we had for weeks. Not just me, but the hobbits too, we were paired up with one of the experienced fighters.

Being paired up with Legolas was one hell of a steep learning curve. Legolas, however dedicated he was to pleasure at night, was a harsh trainer with those two knives of his. He wasn't strong like the others but he was fast and I found myself bleeding almost after every training session, which forced me to try and match his speed.

Boromir, on the other hand, seemed totally unable to take out his full strength on me. I knew he tried but he'd see me flinch and he'd hesitate ,laugh, and we'd try again. Luckily Aragorn made up for what Boromir couldn't. Aragorn, and Gimli too, were just as harsh with me as Legolas.

I knew we were being watched daily by the elves. One week passed by, and we were informed we'd be there one more week, Haldir returning to inform us that the borders were still unsafe.

He wasn't supposed to die there. I stared at him as he spoke quietly with Aragorn, confused, and a little conflicted. I had this image of rain, of fighting, of hundreds of Orc fighting Elves and men. Haldir dying. But then, this conflicting angry thought, that he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.

He met my eyes, suddenly, and stared at me. I looked away as fast as I could. This was crazy. I didn't understand it. Why see a death if I had no details to change it? Boromir flopped beside me, staring openly at Aragorn and Haldir, while the two moved away.

"Do you understand?" He asked and I shook my head. "Nor do I. Here."

Boromir tossed me an apple and leaned back to eat his own. He had relaxed somewhat over the week, but not a lot, and even now he seemed uncomfortable.

"How long do we need to wait?"

'Not too long, I hope. Are you sleeping well in your separate place?" There was nothing in his face except for the warmth he'd started to display towards all of us. I had noticed that here, in Lothlorien, the darkness had appeared less in Boromir's face. Although his tension remained, and his stress, he didn't seem to loose his temper, or loose control. Even Frodo had warmed up to him.

"I guess so." I smiled weakly. Why did I feel guilty about Legolas visiting me there? Was it because Boromir had made it clear he wanted me for his brother? "I mean, it's a bit strange."

"We would not find it strange if you returned. You are, after all, a member of this Fellowship." Boromir leaned back against the tree and scratched a scab on his arm. He added ,"I am sorry for the harsh words spoken to you in Moria."

"It was true though."

"Yes, but... I have had never known a day in my life where I was not expected to train or fight." Boromir took a bite of his apple and continued thoughtfully, "And you have only mere weeks. Your skill with a bow is better than most I have met. You are not without your own strengths. The men of Gondor would be impressed and you would be seen as an asset."

"Asset?"

"As a wife. Your sons will be physically strong and with your spirit." He smiled as I shifted uncomfortably. "It may be some time before a man tames you."

He probably thought he'd just complimented me. I decided to not break that illusion. "Yeah. I'm not really... got plenty of time to think about that." Marriage. *Sons*. I was way too young for that. "Do you have a ...are you married?"

"I, too, have time to think." Boromir's smile faded somewhat. "But I sometimes hope my brother would be the first to have a son. My father may … may change his view of my brother if he does." He breathed out slowly and turned to face me. "My behaviour towards you in Moria was wrong. But, I dreamed of a woman as you for him, a woman who would stand beside him, rather than be a meek shadow."

"But not _me_." The words slipped out. He frowned and stared away, arms crossing, but however bad I felt for him, it felt so fucking wrong. Seriously. Arranged marriage? "There'll be someone."

"I cannot see who else. Please. Meet Faramir before you decide." Boromir said quietly. Before I could answer, he'd stood, and walked into the trees, without staring back.

I couldn't do that. So why did I feel so guilty?

A hand closed on my shoulder, making me flinch, but it was just Legolas. He moved quietly to stand beside me, staring up to watch Aragorn, his presence somewhat soothing.

"I can't do that." I said quietly. Stared up at him. Besides. I was with this Elf, this magic Leggy Legolas elf, and I doubted he'd like the idea much either. "Right?"

Legolas shook his head slowly. "No. Your instinct already tells you that. What he seeks, is not in you." He met my eyes, a sad smile there, and reached up around his neck to lift something up. That silver chain, that leaf, he lifted it up and dropped it over my head. "A gift."

"For what?"

"Being my lover. Only mine. I give this to you to protect." The guilt faded somewhat at that word, at the affectionate look in his face, Legolas' hand running over my hair before he stood up. He stood close enough for his leg to brush my arm. He sighed softly. "His grief is not your burden."

"I wish I could help."

"It is not your problem to solve." He gazed forward, face soft. "It is one he must solve on his own."

I stared down at the leaf, fingering it, admiring it. It was long and narrow, as long as my pinkie, some kind of green stone on silver, the chain a delicate looking thing that looked fragile but felt strong. It was glittery, the green stone was cut so that light caught 'veins' in the leaf,and had traces of gold underneath. Gold leaf under the stone? I wasn't sure. "Are you sure you want to give me this?"

"Yes." Legolas responded.

I grasped for the necklace I'd been given on leaving Rivendell, quickly, tugging it over my head. It felt right to give him it then. I pushed it into his hand, to his surprise, and Legolas stared at it. "Then you can have this."

Warmth spread over his face, Legolas looking genuinely happy, and he slipped it over his head, sliding it under the silver tunic. For a moment he said something, something in Elvish, his hand over the little lump. Then his hand returned to my shoulder, squeezing it, leaning against my side.

That night, it felt strangely more intense, and I wasn't sure why I hadn't just let him convince me to do this in Rivendell. Nothing about it seemed wrong, or bad, just … natural. We lay there, staring out of the tree, watching lights in the trees flicker.

"Go to sleep." Legolas shifted up to sit, back to his usual 'Not needing any sleep' routine, and I did so, relaxed, his hand resting on my hip.

I didn't let Boromir drift away. Instead, I moved closer to him, refusing to let him do his sulk thing. It seemed stupid, childish, and he seemed to appreciate it. Legolas wasn't far off though, he didn't seem to trust him quite so much now, maybe the talk of marriage had annoyed him.

Still, despite the struggle I kept catching in Boromir's eyes, he seemed to still be around, and no one else seemed to be as worried. Lothlorien kept us in this state of calm, peace, that a day or two would pass and we'd barely notice. Aragorn kept us up to date with the Orc slaughter outside Lothlorien, keeping us focused, and we sat around waiting for the elves to clear the way for Frodo so he could safely get out of here again. It was a beautiful cage we sat in while we waited.

I also was starting to suspect that Sam was in love with Frodo. Big time. All those deep stares, the touches, the constant presene, it was adorable and kind of obvious. But then Frodo would mention some hobbit lady and Sam would get flustered. So I wasn't sure about that one.

Legolas was shirtless. One of my hickies was proudly on display on his ab. I stared and felt something hit me across the head.

"Focus!" Boromir snapped, as he almost cut into me again, and I blinked and tried to re-do the footing. "Don't point your feet where you're going."

It was one of his things he had been trying to drill into my head for days now- to always step in the wrong direction. The idea was that it'd throw any orc or bad guy off. I pointed my feet left, they expected me to go left, and then I'd go right. It made sense but it was a hard habit to get into. I started again, grasping the sword in my sweaty palms, aware that my sexy lover Elf was standing right there with his shirt off. Oh sure, everyone was here, Gimli sharpening his axe, the hobbits sitting in a half circle on the soft grass, Aragorn sharpening a dagger.

"And move!" Pippin called, halfway through a mouthful of something, only to get shvoed to his feet by Aragorn. "I'm eating elevensies." Somehow he managed to look offended, almost, that Aragorn would dare move him during such a clearly important meal.

"Sword out, Master Took." Aragorn pulled his own sword out slowly. Then he met Legolas eyes, who smiled, and moved to attack Pippin from behind. Pippin yelped as something hit him across the head, the back of Legolas knife, spinning. "And watch your back."

Aragorn moved away while Legolas took over the training.

Another crash sent me sprawling, almost, and Boromir raised his hands in defeat. "You are not here today, are you?"

Not really. I smiled sheepishly. "Um."

"Then we do this tomorrow." Boromir shethed his sword and glanced towards where Merry was sitting. "Do you-"

"Nope!"

"Not tomorrow." Aragorn said. He sat down slowly with his sword still out. "It's safe."

Legolas and Pippin froze. We all turned to stare at Aragorn, who had pulled out a stone, and was running it slowly across the blade of his long sword.

"It is safe?" Legolas asked quietly. He met my eyes. This meant no more fun naked time, not really, we were back to work. Frodo had gone quiet and pale.

"As it'll ever be. At dawn we will be leaving by the river. Tonight, we must make sure we get a full night's rest-" I swore his eyes went from myself to Legolas, but it couldn't be that he knew, could it? "-and to repack our packs for the journey."

"We should air them out now then." Boromir looked almost glad to be going. He was practically grinning compared to the sombre look on his face for the last few weeks. "Let them dry properly."

"Agreed." Aragorn stood up, shethed his sword, and added, "And prepare ourselves. Weapons sharpened. Arrows made and ready. Repair all clothing."

All stuff we probably should have done while we were here, I realised, but no one had been in a good state. Now we met each other's eyes, the tenseness returning, aware of what we had to do. I might have spent most of the trip in a delusion about 'no danger' or something but now I was very aware and very concerned about what we had to face. Had I trained enough? Learnt enough to keep myself alive? Should I have done less of the hanky panky and more of the training? Getting fitter?

I swallowed.

The tense silence was cut suddenly by Merry's shout, "Race you to the tree!" and we blinked as he and Pippin sped off. Excited. Okay then.

"Let us get ready." Legolas murmered as he walked past, hand brushing my arm, before he followed after them at a slow jog. Normally that might be body code for 'let's meet by the tree' or something. Right now it probably wasn't.

I turned and followed the others to where we'd been set up, my 'space' still with some clothes strung around, but with some of them missing. I had to guess the magic elves in the trees knew we were going and had decided to wash things again. It wasn't the first time I'd found something vanished only to be returned sparkly clean.

Slowly I unpacked each thing, laying them out, glancing up as Legolas wandered in. Come to think of it, he rarely had any sort of stuff. Right now he did have a bag, something in his hands, and his knife.

"I will sit with you. And make arrows for both of us." He said softly and sat as I pulled stuff out, draping it over roots and whatever I found, while Legolas started to craft arrows. His hands moved swiftly, easily, a task he must have done hundreds if not thousands of times before now. But his attention was on me. He was anxious again.

"What is it?" I unrolled my spare leggings and let them rest across a chair.

"I have not had a lover in danger as this. Wouldn't you feel better staying here?" Legolas said it very slowly, hesitantly, and he frowned when I flinched. "I did not think so."

"Fellowship, remember? I'm in this as long as I can cope." Which currently felt like a little longer. I could do this. Bad ring, bad man slash demon or whatever that Sauron was, and the end of the world? What else was I going to do? Make daisy chains while these people I liked and respected charged on into orcs, dragons or whatever else was out there?

"Yes." He said softly.

This was what had worried me. Complications. Sure, here it was fun, but when we got out there again? I frowned and went back, tugging out the little lightweight box at the bottom of the pack, with the jingly things I'd ignored till now. I opened it now and found more than just the gemstones. They sat there but so did a small object, a rectangle, with a shiny piece of glass on one side. A phone. It was a fucking _phone_. Tampons in a box, still sealed with the plastic, reminding me of ...that issue that hadn't come up yet. A comb. Who had packed this? And, to my shock, a little solar panel in plastic. Mobile charger. Woah. Woah. Woah...

"What is that?"

"My brother's present!" I exclaimed, staring at it, turning it over. And my phone! And, I found it there, my ancient mp3 player. A notebook. A pencil. These were things I had in my handbag, I realised.

"You remember a brother?"

"Yes, and no..." I frowned, trying to remember more, but it slipped away. "I just remember that I had one. I don't know much else. This might help!" Excited, I tried to turn on the phone, fumbling with the power button.

It took me a minute before I remembered where Legolas had found me and what had happened to all my things. It had been in the river. Disappointed, I lowered it, only to feel another rush of excitement. Maybe it needed charging!

"Here..." I fumbled with the packaging, undoing the solar panel, shoving the pointy bit into the phone. "Can you sit in the sunshine and make sure this part-" I pointed at the black part, "-is in the sun?"

"What magic is this?"

"The _awesome_ kind." My spirits were rising somehow. Wow. A phone! Maybe I'd find out my real name. Legolas stood up and headed off with his arrow making stuff and the precious item as I stared at the other things.

To my amazement and relief the old mp3 player worked, the headphones still worked, and I heard music. Music! My music! My... ruined mp3 player. Okay. Two seconds and it gave up.

Excitement fading, I fiddled with the gems, feeling kind of bitter. I'd remembered so much about this place and yet I had barely anything for myself yet. Or remembered anything of much use to anyone. The only thing it did confirm was that, wherever the hell I had come from, it was not this place. Not by a long shot.

The last thing I found, rolled nearly and repaired almost perfectly, were the clothing I'd been found in. I held it up and stared at them. Nothing that special, black pants, some kind of shirt, a uniform that had been repaired. Not a school uniform though. Not the shoes either. But the bra had been repaired. I wondered if they even knew what it was. Glancing around, I quickly slid the dress down, and pulled it back on. However uncomfortable these things were... I felt better immediately.

When everything was dry, all the clothing aired, I slowly repacked, leaving these things up the top. Whatever they were, they were all I had left from my past, and the only clue to my missing memories. I felt strangely homesick and sad that I couldn't listen to music from my own world.

Legolas returned the phone that night, with a new lot of arrows, and we sat there quietly with the rest of the Fellowship while he sharpened his knives. I liked watching him do it for some reason. But then, I liked watching him in general. Everything he did, every facial expression, every slight movement of his body, it fascinated me. It was like this obsessive compulsion to know his thoughts.

"We leave tomorrow before dawn." Aragorn said softly. All peace was gone from his face now and he was watching Sam pack. "Samwise, that might be better at the bottom. Roll your clothing, instead of fold it, and it will not get damp and will be smaller."

Sam nodded, tugging some things out, and started to repack. He didn't speak. He seemed focused on two things- Frodo and the packing. The other hobbits hesitated at Aragorn's words. I had noticed a kind of damp moldy smell from them, before we'd reached Lothlorien, and all four of them started to repack.

Merry glanced up from his spare shirt, as he rolled it up hard on the soft dry ground, "Where are we going next?"

"Down river and then across land to Mordor."

Gimli snorted at that. "It sounds easy."

"Let us hope so." Boromir muttered softly. "I intend on returning home."

He met my eyes and smiled somewhat. I relaxed, smiled back, and breathed out slowly. Okay. Boromir seemed good. Relaxed. That was nice. Maybe it was just all the elves that had gotten under his skin.


	5. Down the river

Sometime later, Legolas came over. "Here." Legolas held something out to me. The phone and charger. "It was in the sun as you asked."

"What is it?" Pippin glanced at the slender black object, attached to the solar charger, while he rolled up his socks. "A jewellery box?"

"Too small, Pip." Merry glanced at it too. He blinked at his own reflection in the shiny glass. "It must be a mirror."

"Kind of." I decided I'd look at it later. If it did work they'd all die of a heart attack. Quickly I slid it into the pocket, wrapping the wires up carefully, silently praying that it'd work …I needed some clues! Or if not clues... at least something to prove that 'my world' wasn't some crazy thing I'd made up in my head.

An elf strode into the middle of the group, for Aragorn, his robes flowing. I watched the Elf walk, fascinated, again finding the wonder that came with these creatures. They seemed unearthly. Okay, yes, I was having the occasional fun with one, but I was getting used to Legolas. I was seeing his earthly side. This elf didn't even look at us, he spoke to Aragorn and Legolas, and then strode back off into the fading darkness of the night.

"We will feast tonight." Aragorn sat up straighter.

"Won't we need sleep though?" Boromir muttered. "I mean-"

"The Lady Galadriel herself invited us. We're going." Aragorn made it pretty clear there was no room for argument. Boromir scowled but didn't argue. "So we bathe first."

"Now?" Merry blinked. He was still trying to re-pack his pack.

"Now." Aragorn stood. He met my eyes. "You would bathe in the same spot as last time."

I was about to say I wasn't really sure how to get there- it wasn't like I'd had daily baths in this place- but a hand closed on my shoulder and nearly gave me a heart attack. Another strange elf, another women I hadn't seen before, was there. I hadn't even heard her. "I guess..."

"We'll see you at the feast." Aragorn turned, pushing at Sam lightly, who was fumbling with his frying pan, trying to attach it. "This will be done."

"By the Elves?" Sam hesitated. He glanced at the frying pan in his hand, still black with burnt charcoal, and then at the women beside me, all glowing and perfectly clean. "Maybe I should-"

"We're their guests." Legolas's smile appeared, just for a moment. "They have offered."

"Come on, Sam." Aragorn moved away, glancing back at me, nodding a fraction.

I followed the new Elf lady to the baths, asking for her name, and receiving something in return that I couldn't pronounce. I tried, ending up with 'Tia', and it seemed to amuse her. Okay. Well, at least she was nice.

'Tia' showed about as much shame with my body as the others had, when I had occasionally bathed here, that was … no shame whatsoever. She didn't stare, just stood there matter of factly, as I self-consciously stripped off in the 'bath room'. But I did catch her staring at my ears, the ruined pieces of skin, and that didn't help much.

I slid into the water and bathed slowly, trying to relax, the heated mineral bath soaking into my muscles, my bones, tingling and separating sweat, dirt and other things from skin. I had been here several times since we'd come. The routine was always the same. I bathed while my clothes vanished. Usually they'd reappear almost as if magically cleaned, within half an hour, and by then I'd have soaked long enough in the fragrant water to carry the scent of jasmine and flowers for a good three or four days.

Today was slightly different though. Today, the water smelt different, more minty. Not mint, I sniffed the surface slowly, the little flowers swirling around my shoulders. But something that was a mix between mint, orange, and ...watermelon? It was a nice smell, kind of woke me up a bit, and I didn't fall into the same haze I usually did in the bath. This same smell was in the soap, clung to my hair, my skin, got under my nails. It was energetic... that was the only way to put it. A smell that made me feel a little more energy return.

And when Tia returned with the clothing, it was not my clothing. It was all white, all floaty, all girly.

"You bathe once more tomorrow." She informed me in her soft voice, as she draped it across a chair, her fingers lightly arranging the sleeves and stroking the dress. It glittered, as if there was crystals or something attached to the sleeves, and there was a belt of twisted ...silver? Or was it just that colour? "Come and dress."

Slowly I got out of the water. I had gained a bit of weight since coming here. We all had, really, that was kind of to be expected. But I noticed it jiggled less, my arms, my belly, my body was thicker, but not ...soft. Training with the men must have done some good. I flushed as she stared at me as well and grasped for the drying cloth quickly, and then the dress, my hands meeting soft silky fabric. If there wasn't traces of golden brown leaves sewn into, fading in and out of the white, it might have almost looked like a bloody wedding dress. This was how everyone around here liked to dress though. White with a side of colour.

This one was tight around my stomach and chest, with soft floating sleeves that hung off my shoulders, and a long full skirt It looked like it'd be heavy but I barely felt it as it was laced up my back. The necklace Legolas gave me hung over my chest, kind of obvious, and I was tempted to hide it. I suspected he'd like seeing it though so I left it.

Once it was over my head and laced up at the front, Tia slid something over my head, some kind of metal headpiece that sat against my forehead. She went to pull my hair back off my ears and I tugged away awkwardly.

"Sorry... I just ...want to leave them covered." I muttered.

"I understand." Tia nodded slowly, her eyes flickering to where my ears were once hole, and added, "Your clothing waits for you in your bed."

I wandered out, bare feet and the white hem brushing against the grass. Tia led the way, though she really didn't have to, I could see the feast from some distance off. The rest of the forest had gone dark, lamps dim and gentle, with one particular area of the trees all aglow with white and blue light. It was high up off the ground, casting great shadows along the green grass, the stream of waters, the statues, and it occurred to me that this would probably be the last time I'd see Lothlorien properly.

I gazed around, at the massive trees, felt the warmth of the ground under my feet, warm as if it was alive, the intricate statues, the short lush grass that cushioned my feet, just beginning to become damp with the evening dew. Saw Elves run past, laughing, light, their laughter like music that echoed through the quietening forest. This was the side of them we rarely saw- their playful side.

Now, even though I knew they had heard me, they ignored me. Feasts must have brought out their natural side, maybe, or maybe they'd gotten into the Elvish wine early. That reminded me. I had to avoid that stuff.

"Sorry. I just wanted to see it ..." I turned for Tia and found she was gone. I blinked, staring around, unsure. Which staircase went to the right tree?

"One last time." The voice was not Tia's voice. It was Lady Galadriel, robbed again in a white gown, her hands by her side as she moved slowly out of the darkness and towards me. She glowed, literally glowed, a faint light reflecting off trunk and leave as she passed it. The Lady of Light. I could see why. "Lothlorien passes into memory of us all. All Elves leave for the undying land."

"I know." I stared at her, her blue eyes piercing me, like they could read everything. I shivered slightly suddenly. Like with Lord Elrond, I saw everything about this woman, I _knew_ everything. And I suspected she'd somehow helped me do it. It felt so invasive though, to see so much about her, to know so much. "Sorry."

But she smiled, a soft gentle smile, and I felt like it was okay, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. "Come with me." Lady Galadriel turned slowly, and glided into the darkness, the glow of her body showing me the direction she took. I went with her slowly, glancing back, no sign of Tia. The sheer weight of what I had seen about this woman, this elf, it staggered me. Yes- I'd known some stuff about Lord Elrond, but somehow Lady Galadriel... she awestruck me in a way he hadn't.

She towered over me, more than any woman I had met in my life, well over six feet tall. It was her hair that glowed, I realised, this incredible golden hair. And to add to her height was the sheer staggering heights her life had gone to...

She came from the Undying lands, she'd come _here_ from _there_, and lived here. Rebellion, brothers, a life that I knew so much intimate detail about. Her first kingdom, which wasn't Lothlorien, and her lover, the Lord I'd seen. Her daughter, the Elf that had married Elrond, the Elf that had been raped and traumatised so badly by the Orcs that she was long gone to the undying lands. And her ring. Nenya. The Elvish ring of power, the one that controlled water, protection, concealment from Evil.

It suddenly occurred to me, as I silently followed her along a path she seemed to know well, that I hadn't had a single nightmare since being here. Nothing. Was that her doing?

"Yes." Galadriel's voice was soft, but it sent a shock through me, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking, what I was remembering. She turned towards me slowly, reaching out to grasp my hand, and held it in hers. I felt her ring against my skin. Expected some reaction to it. But there was nothing. It was warm, smooth, and I felt calmness seep into me, as her long fingers clasped mine, squeezing my hand.

I gazed up at her, her eyes meeting mine, and felt the sheer power of her energy seep over me. "I don't know why I remember these things." It was my way of an apology, maybe, for knowing such intimate stuff about her.

_'Are you ready to die in order to be reborn?' _The voice, the question from my memory, except that it ...it was her. Galadriel. She gazed at me quietly, her mouth not moving, but her voice in my head.

"It was you?" I gaped at her. The question blurt out, suddenly, my desperation and frustration at my own inability to remember my life, "Who am I?"

"Wenduin. More than that, I never knew." Galadriel turned slowly towards a silver pitcher, her free hand reaching out to grasp it, and she led me towards a small waterfall. "Your coming was not intended."

"By you?"

"By the world. You have seen what could be." Galadriel held the pitcher under the water, eyes on the water, her other hand still in mine. It seemed strangely intimate for her to do so, almost maternal, protective. Nenya, her ring, still sat against my skin. "Many seek to know what you see."

"Can you?" I asked quietly.

She withdrew the pitcher and shook her head slowly. "I see what you have seen. I have seen the path of the Fellowship also. But I did not anticipate you."

"Then why did you ask me to come?"

"I didn't." Galadriel turned towards me, and there was sadness there, this trace of grief that for a moment made her seem ...smaller. Older. Her eyes seemed ancient. "My daughter did. She did not intend on it. But ...her healing is not fast, and she dreams of other worlds, of escape. She saw you drowning, in pain, and she felt a kinship in a shared pain."

Her daughter. Celebrien. I swallowed quietly, as Galdriel's eyes stayed fixed in mine, and no longer was she this unearthly beauty, this incredible power. I saw the grieving mother for a moment, the hurt of a woman who's daughter had been hurt in the worst way, and shivered involuntary.

"Can others see what I see?"

"No." Galadriel moved away now, drawing me along side her, the pitcher lifted and poured slowly into a silver bowl. I knew exactly what it was. The mirror. "Do you know why it was decided to have nine members of the Fellowship?"

"No." I admitted quietly. "I shouldn't have come?"

"No." She seemed distracted though, staring down into the water of the bowl, and continued, "And yes. Your coming changed the course of history. What you remember... do not count on it. The slightest change can change the course of the future. There was to be nine members of the Fellowship, one for each Nasgul, but a tenth member was brought into it. And so it seems, there are no longer nine."

I wanted to ask if there was less. But I guessed what she was getting at. I felt it, suddenly, this chill, and it made her hand tighten on my skin. "There's another one of them?"

Galadriel nodded quietly. Her eyes left the water of the mirror and met my eyes. "Would you look?"

Of course I would look. But I hesitated. "What would look back?" I saw Frodo, I saw him with the bowl, and that eye. That flaming eye. It scared me.

"I cannot answer."

Slowly I went for the bowl, staring down, my own white face and white eyes staring back up at me. Her hand let go of my hand.

I saw Helm's Deep. I saw it, I saw it stormed by Orc, children in metal armour. Legolas, his face more taught with anxiety than I had ever seen it, staring at me with genuine fear, anger even loathing. He was shouting at me. The sheer look in his face hurt. Boromir, on top of me, struggling with me, eyes glazed.

And a man. A man with white hair, staring at me so intensely that I was sure he could really see me, his eyes boring into mine as he sat in a black throne. He stood up, striding towards me, grasping out and...

He could really see me. I was sure of it. He stared at me, hand reaching out, voice hissing, "Girl..."

I stood back, aware of how sweaty I suddenly was, legs shaking under me. Galadriel's hand clasped around mine and the sense of being watched vanished as if something was slapped away. The water no longer held images. It was just water.

I felt sick. I felt like I wanted to vomit. I sat down, legs shaking, right where I stood. Galadriel sat down too, to my surprise, her kind eyes in mine. Somehow I knew I was safe here with her. But...

"He wants me, doesn't he?"

"You have seen the way this will go, as have I, and yet have no power or strength. He cannot capture me. But you, Wenduin, would be simple." Galadriel said softly. She was stroking my hand, the warm metal of Nenya feeling so obvious against my skin, so protective. "Every step the Fellowship take, every movement Frodo makes with the ring, every memory you have yet to remember, and Saruman would capture you. What you remember could destroy us and restore the one ring to his master."

"So I can't go on..." I swallowed, throat dry, still trembling. That sense of real danger in Moria returned, only this time her words sunk deep, that I was defenceless. Weak. Easily caught. Distraction from Frodo if they had to protect me.

"You must go on. What you have seen, Wenduin, can also be used to the advantage of your friends. Your loved ones. Knowledge is a weapon that is feared most of all." Galadriel stood slowly, pulling me up, and as her grip on my hands refused to waver, I felt strength seeping back. She had to be putting it back.

"I can't defend myself." I said quietly. "I can't defend Frodo. I'm not a warrior like them."

"No." She agreed and reached down to pick up the pitcher. Galadriel's eyes had gone distant, as she gazed into the mirror once more, her hand softening around mine. "But you will go. I will join you at the feast."

I suspected this meant I was dismissed, because her hand released me, and I felt the warmth and safety of her grasp vanish with it. Nenya faded from my sight, as if it had never been there, like it had vanished.

Tia was there though, I realised, and I quietly followed her, leaving Galadriel to her visions.

The feast was amazing. Of course it was. Amazing food, amazing music, dancing, all of it. But I sat there distracted, ignoring the wine, anxiety ebbing and waning as I tried to think. So I knew stuff. Stuff that they wanted to know. Stuff that could destroy Frodo big time and throw the entire damn world into evil and chaos. Basically- if they captured me, I'd mess it all up. But I couldn't fight like the others. Oh, and apparently because I was a part of the Fellowship, there were now TEN of those bad floating ghost men things, not nine. I suspected this was very bad news. Very bad

I felt Legolas brush my hand under the table, and I held onto it, unsure about if I should tell him or not. He seemed tense too, but was that because he was picking up on my moods? Maybe. Already he'd asked me several times if I was okay.

Luckily the feast didn't go late. I followed the others to bed, and curled up alone. It wasn't long before I fell asleep. No sexy time with the elf tonight- I only woke hours later, curled up in Legolas' arms, while he lay there asleep.

So who had woken me? I blinked up sleepily, trying to see through the darkness of early dawn, hearing a twig crack and a shadow move in front of me as someone stood in the doorway. The light of the gentle lamp was across his face, etching every line, every frown, and every trace of grief and rage that covered his face.

Boromir.

I knew it was him and I stared at him, his face meeting mine, that shadow crossing his face as his eyes crossed from my face to Legolas. He knew. He understood. And before I could speak, he cut me off, his voice strangely tense.

"We leave soon. Dress."

Dress? I glanced down, finding myself more or less naked, the sheet covering me. Had Legolas undressed me? Or 'Tia'? Either was likely, really, but Boromir moved away, his face dark. Shit. _Shit_. Happy Boromir had exploded into dark angry ring affected Boromir... and it was my fault.

_Shit_!

"Relax." Legolas leaned up, slowly, hand brushing across my shoulder. "He should know. Let him calm down." I glanced back at him. He was naked. Openly, obviously, and not covered by a sheet.

Oh, _shit_!

I slid up slowly, trying to dress, Legolas standing and dressing slowly beside me. He kept touching me which didn't help much. "This isn't good, Leggy."

"We can still perform as a Fellowship, Wenduin. Duty comes before love." Legolas said calmly, sliding his shirt on, and then tugging the wrist guards on his wrists.

Wait, love? The word made my heart flip-flop, breath catch, and vomit threaten to protect all over his pretty face. Joy and dread filled me at that. Love? _Love_?! Before I could speak, Legolas had vanished, and I was left alone to finish dressing. Did I love Legolas? I didn't fucking know. I liked him, I liked him a lot for me to let him near me naked, but ...love?

"Come on, Wendy!" Pippin called. "We have to get there at dawn!"

I dressed faster, trying to get the right pieces on at the right times, tugging the headpiece off my head. Someone had undressed me but not taken this off? Well, that sucked. I smiled weakly as Pippin ran in, tugging on my last boot.

"Nearly done." I told him. "Everyone ready?"

"Sam's making sure all his things are there." Pippin informed me, flopping down, picking up the headpiece. "This was pretty"

"Thanks." I laced it up quickly. Pippin stood up, followed me out, and we stood around while Sam made sure everything was where it was meant to be. Then Aragorn led us through the forest, the early morning mist hiding the tops of the trees overhead, silent Elves standing around watching us leave.

It felt like they were watching a funeral. No one smiled. No one cheered. It seemed depressing to me.

When we reached a river the fog still hung heavy in the trees, boats waiting for us along the bank, several Elves waiting. Haldier was there, I noticed, as was Celeborn. Aragorn spoke with them quietly and turned to us, all lined up behind him, energy returning to his face. Back to danger! Men must have loved this stuff

"We will pack the boats. Frodo, Sam, with me. Pippin, Merry, with Boromir." That meant Gimli, myself and Legolas would be in the third. I nodded vaguely and followed Legolas and Gimli to the boats. We started to pack, careful with the weight, though Legolas seemed less concerned than Gimli.

"You can sit in front of me." Gimli let me know, reaching up to take my pack, easily lifting it. I heard the jingle of gemstones and hesitated An idea sprung to mind. I didn't know why but it felt like a good idea somehow.

"Hang on, I need something..." I reached for the top, tugging out the little velvet bag of various gemstones, and opened it to make sure they were all there. They glittered in the light. Yep. All there. I slid them into a pocket as I did the pack up and it was slid back into the boat.

Elves came, once we'd finished, starting to pack other things into the boats. Packets of bread, wrapped in leaves, food, water, some little packages such as hooks. Probably fresh clothing, soap, given how pretty they were. A few combs? I smiled somewhat as I saw Pippin and Merry had located the bread and started to 'sample just a few bites'. Then they had to check to see if those ones, in that leaf, were a different flavour.

"Is it?"

"Not sure." Pippin responded, finishing his second off, and reaching for a third. "I'll test one more." Thirty seconds later, "No, still the same. It's good though."

Merry glanced away, disappointed, and Pippin grabbed for a fourth and drowned it down before Merry could look around.

"Lembas! Elvish Way-bread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man ." Legolas said, cheerful, holding one up, biting into it as he spoke. I giggled softly as he turned away, clearly having no idea what a hobbit needed, the look on Pippin's face priceless.

"How many did you eat?" Merry said softly. I noticed he still had half a piece in his hand, and he stared at it, as if not sure if he should finish it.

"Four." Pippin burped, glancing around, meeting my eyes. My smile seemed to put him at ease though. Merry snuck the last of his lembas as fast as he could, hiding it from the Elves, looking kind of guilty.

Something in the water caught our attention, further down, and Aragorn called softly, "Come on, stand in a line."

We scrambled up to the bank, and stood in a line, seeing a swan boat gently drift around the edge of the river. As if pulled to us, it seemed to need no guidance, Galadriel standing in it with her hands folded in front of her. There were Elves there, of course, gently paddling up, but they barely touched the water with them.

As she stepped out slowly, taking the hand of Celeborn, Elves stood forward, cloaks in their hands. Celeborn spoke calmly, eyes moving across us, "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

Tia moved towards me, pulling the cloak around me, and carefully did a tiny green and silver leaf brooch up over my throat. There was a trace of a smile on her face as she caught my eyes, her fingers running across the edge, before she stood back.

The cloak felt heavy, enough for me to feel the weight of it, but it didn't feel over-heavy. Warm, soft, and it felt safe.

Galadriel moved along, her feet making no sound on the grass, sunlight finally breaking through the fog and casting us all in a golden glow. I saw that there were objects picked up by our Elves, objects wrapped in soft cloth, offered to her as she moved to each of us

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin." She held out a bow, unwrapping it slowly, and the look in Legolas face was heart stopping. He seemed in awe of it... but I'd seen this look on his face. Again, my heart flip flopped, the word 'love' dancing through my head. That look was sometimes directed at me too.

"These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war. Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage." Galadriel gently unwrapped and offered Pippin and Merry daggers and belts, perfectly sized for them, her warm smile and the sunshine easing their tense shoulders.

"And for you, Samwise Gamgee: Elven rope, made of hithlain." Galadriel continued, turning her attention to Sam beside me, holding out a long silky looking rope.

"Thank you, my lady." Sam glanced sideways at Merry and Pippin, as they were doing their belts up, and to her amusement, he asked, "Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?"

She smiled at him, moving sideways, before her eyes met mine. I swallowed, our eyes meeting, it felt like time was freezing around us. When Galadriel spoke, her voice seemed to drown out all other sounds, as if it was just the two of us in the world.

"And for you, Wenduin." She took my hand and slid a small sword, looking as if it was exactly the same, the length from my wrist to my shoulder. Elven runes were etched along the blade, the handle curved and beautiful, the blade curved back. It was so light, I could barely feel the weight of it, and as I tightened my grasp around it I swore I felt something else pressed into my hand, something small and circle, but she had concealed it and I didn't ask. Galadriel didn't offer any more insight, she didn't even tell me the name, but her eyes met mine, and she smiled before moving on to Gimli.

I felt the ring in my palm, under the sword, half listening as Gimli spoke.

"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?"

"Nothing." Gimli grunted. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth."

There was a soft laughter at that, Galadriel laughing, as Gimli hesitated.

"Actually, there was one thing - ah, agh, that's quite impossible. Stupid to ask." He moved closer, quiet

I moved back, slowly, Legolas drawing me back. He took the sword and belt, which I had been too distracted to even notice, doing it around my waist as I stared at the ring concealed in my palm. At first I'd wondered if it was her ring, Nenya, but to my relief it wasn't even slightly like it. This ring was small, as silver as hers, but with silver waves crashing around, wrapping around each other and a small bright silvery blue stone that glinted in the early morning light.

Legolas reached for it, touching it, hesitating as his fingertip grazed over it. Then he met my eyes "This is no small gift."

"It looks small to me." I joked, quietly, but he took the ring and pushed it quietly up one of my fingers, the contact of this motion making goosebumps rise on my arms under the shift. Legolas gazed at it with wonder, half hiding it under his own hand, before his hands squeezed mine. His attention went back to the bow, awe on his face, and I turned to see Aragorn striding off with Celeborn. What had he gotten?

"Come." Legolas said, drawing me towards our boat. "Aragorn must speak with Lord Celeborn and then we will leave."

"So fast?"

Legolas nodded. I felt the weight of my gemstones, as we headed for the boat, remembering what I'd intended to do. Quickly I moved away towards Galadriel, who was moving back, her attention returning to me. She almost seemed amused as I tugged the pouch out and offered it.

"Um, here."

She took it and opened it, reaching in to touch the gemstones quietly. "A gift?"

"For being so good to us. I think you'd do more with them than I would." I felt embarrassed, as she drew them out into her palm one by one, but Galadriel really seemed to like them. Okay. Nice.

She reached out for my hand, concealed slightly from the others by trees, and touched the ring she had given me. "My daughter would have you wear this. Where you lack strength, you are free to give that strength to other places. Find that strength and draw upon it instead."

Before I could ask what she meant, Legolas was back, and I was led to the boat.

Galadriel farewelled us from the bank, as we moved away from the bank, her eyes haunting me long after she vanished out of sight. Elves stood along the bank, watching us quietly, a solemn procession that chilled me to the bone.

But somehow I felt okay, felt the way the ring clung to my finger, and felt the warmth of the others. I liked the others. It would be okay. She wouldn't give us all these special gifts if she'd seen us all die.

No one spoke for a very long time. Quietly Legolas paddled behind me, leading the others, and it seemed the slightest motion of the paddle was enough to propel us beautifully through the river.

Slowly Lothlorien drifted away, the forest changing swiftly, and Gimli finally spoke only when we'd been travelling for some time. He'd seemed unable to speak but now...

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Haugh, henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me." Gimli breathed out, slowly from behind me.

"What was it?"

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three."

I smiled at that, shutting my eyes as the warmth of the sunlight filled my body. I still didn't get the dwarf elf hatred thing and now, I was even more baffled. But it didn't seem to matter.

We went quiet again as the river contained, finally branching out into a wider river, great cliffs rising around us. Fish jumped, birds swooped and sang, the land healthy and happy. I dozed, on and off, it was hard not to. Sometimes when I opened my eyes, the others were ahead, or behind, and when it was my turn to paddle, I found it surprisingly easy. Only a quick stop for lunch, which was more an excuse to go to the toilet for everyone than anything, and then we were back in the boats.

As beautiful as it was to drift downstream with my favorite elf and my favorite dwarf, though admittadly I had only met a few of them, the warm fuzziness that came with Lothlorien faded. It was almost as if the magic and protection of that place stopped and with it, our comfort. The only person who seemed to perk up at this release of energy was Boromir, who's face had gained color again, shoulders no longer slumping. Whatever that place had done to him, whatever he'd felt about his father and his brother, he hadn't been able to hide from it there.

I met his eyes once. Hurt flashed across it, betrayal, like I'd cheated on him. Guilt dogged at me, it tore at my insides, and I couldn't understand why. Why should I feel so bad about his hurt? Yes, _okay_, I was sleeping with the Elf. But it seemed natural. It _felt_ natural. I didn't know if I loved Legolas but … I liked him a hell of a lot, and anyway, besides that 'L' word he'd slipped earlier, he'd made it pretty clear that this was about two friends taking comfort without shame.

Without shame.

So why did I feel so fucking bad now that Boromir knew? I wouldn't marry his brother just because he wanted me to. The idea repulsed me.

I gritted my teeth as he refused to look at me for the rest of the afternoon, the hot sun beating down on us, sending little rivers of sweat down my back. We all sweated, except for Legolas naturally, but I'd stopped caring so much. I _did_ start craving a swim in the river by the time it reached mid-afternoon and the sun was at the hottest all day.

"You want to try, Wendy?" Gimli glanced backwards at me, holding the paddle. We were behind the others, but no one seemed to be in too great a rush with paddling, the current of the river and the boats were moving at a good speed without great effort. Another magic elf trick? Magic boats?

"Of course!" Come to think of it, why hadn't I been offered this before? Gimli and Legolas had both taken turns. I took it and stared at it. It was pretty light for the size of it. "So I-"

"Just push the water, slowly. The boat will do the rest." Legolas spoke from behind me.

He was right, and I started to take the idea of 'magic elf boats' seriously, because the boat seriously did seem to be doing a lot on its own. All I had to do was push the water at a steady pace, so I didn't turn the boat in one direction, and we were _moving_.

After an hour Legolas took over once more. He had this smile on his face though and I wanted to jab him in his stomach. Right where that birthmark was. Remind him that he couldn't make fun of me because I'd seen him naked. Hell, I'd heard him fart during sex. How many people could say they'd heard an elf fart in the middle of happy fun naked time?

Night approached. Aragorn's mood had shifted to tense business mode all afternoon, and when I glanced at Leglolas, he too was back to 'Warrior'. I had to guess Boromir was too. There was a soft call from Aragorn to 'gather'.

All three boats lining up for them to have a quick talk in Elvish. As Aragorn and Legolas spoke for just a minute, Boromir's face darkened, clearly annoyed by the Elvish. He was just about to paddle off again when Aragorn leaned forward to nudge Sam awake.

"Sam, grasp onto Boromir and Legolas boats." When he had, and the three of us were steady, he informed all of us, "We believe we are being tracked."

"Already?" Sam said, sleepily, glancing at us. He yawned and reached forward for his water pack.

"We should continue through the night." Boromir didn't look at me, or Legolas, his eyes on Aragorn alone.

"It is best." Legolas nodded. Something in Boromir's face twitched but he didn't speak.

"What about dinner?" Sam asked quietly.

"I need to ...you know, _pee_." Merry informed Boromir in a hiss, his cheeks reddening slightly, as if 'pee' was the kind of information you didn't share in front of a woman. I knew how men peed long before I'd seen an adult's peepee.

"Lembas. Water. No fires are safe right now. We will get some distance ahead, so we may get some rest on land tomorrow night, and get some food." Aragorn added, with a twitch of his mouth, "And you should pee from the boat. Boromir can pull it back if you're shy."

"And scout." Legolas said quietly.

"And scout. Everyone keep quiet tonight- let Legolas listen through the darkness." Aragorn's voice had already dropped. He glanced up at the stars. "We will paddle, but quietly, and slowly. If you must sleep, take turns."

And with that, we moved away again. Paddles were suddenly quieter, dipping into the water with barely a sound, the boats moving with the flow of the currents and the encouragement of whoever was paddling. Gimli paddled, somehow shifting to my front without us tipping the boat, keeping watch head as we followed Aragorn's boat. He must have been the one seeking the fastest safest currents.

Aragorn wasn't shy, apparently, because I did see him at one point kneel in the boat, point and let it flow. I tried to not laugh as Sam hissed something about ladies. Aragorn probably knew what I'd been up to with Legolas so...

"Wenduin, sit behind me." Legolas said, suddenly, and I blinked at him. Was he worried about what I'd see?

"Right now?"

"You can sleep there." Legolas nodded and reached over.

I stood slowly, uneasy, but the boat didn't wobble too much. Somehow, with Legolas help, I managed to get to the space behind him without falling in. He shifted forward and I settled down, breathing out with a long sigh.

I relaxed, now in the back of the boat, one of Legolas hands reaching out to grasp my hand. Looking back, his attention was on the dark forests around us, that unearthly look back on his face. What could he hear? See? I was so curious about it.

Lembas was offered to me from Gimli, and remembering what Legolas had said, I only took a small bite before passing it back to Legolas. With a mouthful of water, I shut my eyes, and tried to sleep.

Course, bladders didn't always listen to good plans, and I realised the problem with Aragorn's plan long before he did. My own bladder let me know it was upset around the same time Gimli cleared his throat and muttered about land, staring at me, his face reddening.

"Aragorn, we should land for a breather." Gimli finally said, clearing his throat, uncomfortable."

"We can't, Gimli." Aragorn called softly. "You will have to aim from the boat."

"With the Lady Wenduin... couldn't empty myself in front of her. Wouldn't be right." Gimli said quietly.

Aragorn glanced back, shaking his head, the trace of a smile there.

He wanted to pee. He couldn't hide it from me when he was in front of me.

So did I, I realised, I hadn't gone since our lunch stop. I was _busting_.

We stopped, quickly, and took turns rushing into the forest. Aragorn did not let me stay long on my own. I got about two minutes before he was calling, quietly, and we were shoved back into the boats.

I rested on the packs in the back, trying to sleep, and was woken up midway through the night for my paddling shift. In the dark it was another world on the river. Every sound seemed amplified. Every movement on the bank, every twig that cracked, I'd try and see it. I wished I had a high power flash light. Legolas stared into the dark, at every sound, and I had to hope that he knew what was going on out there.

The moon, still very large, cast a silver light over the river, making Legolas hair look almost white, and the stars were covering the sky. The river reflected it, making it look as if we were floating along stars, the waters calmer and quieter. Cliffs rose around us, big black things, sometimes falling down where the outline of tall trees jutted up against the dark sky. Unearthly cries echoed suddenly. The sound of things in trees, ground, movement. Rocks falling. Water splashing.

It seriously unnerved me and I had no clue how Gimli could sleep with all that noise.

I reached out to touch Legolas shoulder, one of his hands coming to hold mine, and he twisted around to stare at me.

"Wenduin?" He spoke softly but it sounded loud in the night air.

"Can you tell what makes those noises?"

Legolas nodded, squeezing my hand, and took the paddle from me. "There were wild horses asleep far behind us. An owl startled one."

That was what I'd heard?! "That was it?" It had sounded so loud like it was right beside us.

"No." Legolas scowled slightly then, just a slight movement of his face, but for him it was like screaming 'DISGUST!'. "The Orcs now eat them."

Now eat them? It'd been _five minutes ago. _I had this sudden image of ...and felt not the slightest bit hungry now. Poor horses.

A hand brushed over my face, fingers grazing the remains of my ear, and Legolas kissed me just a moment, just a brush of lips. Then he turned around, taking the paddle, saying softly, "They have stopped tracking us for an hour." He added as he turned around slowly. "But I am listening to them. We are gaining distance. Sleep and relax."

Sleep and relax. Haha. Yeah, right. I touched my lips, the feel of his mouth still lingering, heart a little faster now. It had been probably to comfort but … he'd never done that before. Never in public. Usually any kind of kiss was in private, when no one else was around. Had anyone noticed?

I didn't think so. I heard Legolas call softly to Aragorn in Elvish, who glanced back, and then Aragorn moved ahead to where Boromir's boat was. We sped up, cutting through the water silently, speed increasing once more.

I did manage to sleep though, somehow, curled up in the warm Lothlorien cloak on top of the packs. It was becoming light by the time I woke.

We had to repeat the bathroom stop that morning. Legolas moved up the hill to scout for the Orc tracking us. I knew it was partly because of me- they would have probably just peed out of the side of the boat if the hobbits hadn't been so self-concious about doing it in front of me, or for my own need- but when I muttered an appology to Aragorn, he shrugged.

"With the Orc having fallen so far back, we can risk a short time on the land." He grabbed an apple, cutting it in two, and handed me half. "So eat."

I took a bite as I sat down beside him, watching the river go past, the silvery boats bobbing up and down. "There are wild horses around here?"

"Not wild, exactly." Aragorn sat down as well. Boromir moved past, tugging his belt back on, eyes on the river instead of us. "Boromir, can you secure your boat better?"

Boromir nodded and headed down to drag his boat a bit further up the bank.

"The men of Rohan release their horses to roam wild." Aragorn explained. "Some have grown too old for service, some have been injured, and they will release their mares to birth in the plains. For Orc to be freely killing their horses at will... It is not the kind of thing the people of Rohan would once allow."

"So they just get rid of them?" I blinked at him. "If they can't work?"

"No." Aragorn smiled somewhat. "No. They love their horses as they love their children. A life of service is rewarded by freedom. A mare is free to raise her foal free beside men, for no mare roams too far from her master's side, and the foal is treasured and protected. They value their horses too much to abandon them. The capture or killing of the wild horses is seen as great a crime as the capture or killing of a horse in their stable."

I nodded, taking another big bite of the apple, gazing out across the river at the other side of the bank. So we had to be in their lands, if we'd passed some of their horses. Or maybe the horses roamed a long way sometimes.

We stayed for half an hour that morning, allowing Sam to cook a hurried hot breakfast, and slid back into the water only when we each had a bowlful of ...whatever it was. Oats and saltanas, I had to guess, with some herb he'd picked from the side of the river.

Sitting in the boat behind Legolas got old fast. By midmorning, I was bored, and not sure what the hell to do with myself. I tugged out my phone as we floated downstream, fiddling, the sun no longer warming or calming, but a bit annoying, a bit too hot. And yet I couldn't drink a lot. If I did... more peeing, and that was not helpful at all.

Gimli sat in front of me, paddling, humming something to himself under his breath. If it was interrupting Legolas he didn't say. The smell of dwarf sweat was not... exactly nice. But then, I probably stank too.

"How long down here?" I asked softly, glancing back at Legolas, who had his eyes fixed on the banks. "What can you see or hear?"

Legolas frowned at me and then at my hand. But I heard it too. Music! We both stared at the phone in my hand, the screem doing a little blue swirl, then 'Samsung'. For a moment I saw it as he must have, this tiny over-shiny black object. With moving pictures and a song.

He moved fast, bow out, arrow at my hands, and I quickly shoved the phone out of his sight. Legolas narrowed his eyes, suspicious, just about ready to kill my poor phone with an arrow. "Magic."

"It's ..." I was going to say 'just a phone'. But that would mean nothing to him. I hesitated, pushing Legolas arrow down, and tried, "Safe. Don't shoot it."

I returned my attention to the phone in my lap, staring down, not sure what I was expecting. It was a big phone, a 'smart phone', and had somehow survived the river. The background was of …

Legolas. Well, sort of. It was of a blonde man, long hair, wearing clothing that more or less matched what Legolas had worn in Lothlorien. Except that this man was wearing fake elf ears, was holding a phone in his hand, and his bow was pretty fake as well. His face was different too, squarer.

And beside him, me. Dressed as Gimli. His arm around me. The whole 'Fellowship' around us, sort of, except that the hobbits weren't miniature and Boromir had a fake beard on.

Somehow this image really embarrassed me.

He shifted closer, twisting around, pushing the paddle at Gimli. "Paddle." Then he shifted closer, eyes narrowed, staring at the background of my poor phone. "What is that?"

The man on my phone had dark eyebrows, and a slightly more human-like face, where as the suspicious real one hovering over it had the pale eyebrows of a natural blonde, and the slightly alien face that seemed to come as part of the elf package. But the man in my phone did things to me that Legolas did. Heart fluttering, swallowing, affection grabbing face...

"Why are you dressed as Gimli?"

"Because I was too fat and short to be Eowyn or Arwen..." The words came out, words that hurt, as I stared at my own plump self in the photo. Legolas had seen me right through the beard. I swallowed, throat dry, wishing I hadn't turned it on now. What had I wanted to see? "We were cosplaying."

"What is that?"

"Pretending to be... people. We admire." My head was still caught on the 'too fat and short' part. Who had said that? The words I'd remembered weren't mine. The man had said them. Legolas? But he was my boyfriend. And he'd been annoyed when I'd been upset. Said he'd just been truthful with me, because he loved me, and anyway, Legolas and Gimli were best friends.

I wanted to throw the phone into the river. This memory wasn't one I wanted to remember. I felt sick. Was my feelings for Legolas real? Or were they for this boyfriend? He dazzled me and hurt me and …

"Wenduin?" Legolas said softly, grasping my hand. I blinked up at him. He was waiting for an answer to a question.

"Sorry, I missed what you said."

"You admire Gimli?"

I nodded, slowly, Gimli glancing back and meeting my eyes. Legolas's smile returned, the shadow of something hidden deep inside, but his eyes went down to the photo again. "What is this?"

"It's a phone. This is a photo of me and … friends. A special kind of painting." I didn't know how better to explain it. "In a special ...container. It does different things. Shouldn't you be keeping watch?" I couldn't even look him in the eye now. I had a boyfriend. I didn't remember his name but I knew I had one.

"You were too fat to dress as the Lady Arwen?"

"God, let it go. This isn't one memory I want to remember." I muttered, gritting my teeth, trying to not ...I didn't know. It was bringing up feelings, memories, of feeling ...fat, strange, and desperate for approval. It hurt. I loved that boyfriend and it hurt. But he treated me so good while we were there. People had loved it. The Legolas Gimli pairing. Fans of slash had loved it.

"Tell me."

I shook my head, gritted my teeth, and started to fiddle with the phone's screen, touching it, trying to find music instead. Legolas jumped as the screen responded to my touch and, slowly, he reached out to touch it too.

"Wenduin..."

"You need to keep watch." I muttered. Shoved his hand off the phone. The gallery was there, filled with images of that day, with a little label 'Fellowship Cosplay 2012'.

Legolas glanced back over his shoulder. Boromir and Aragorn were some distnace ahead, not too far, Gimli was staring ahead. Probably trying to not hear us. Then he shook his head. "I know you're upset. We are lovers. What upsets you, I share."

Gimli actually coughed at that, but he didn't stare back, and I wondered if he'd known too. Guess this thing was out in the open now.

"He was my boyfriend." At the blank look on Legolas face, I frowned, and tried to think of how to put this in a Middle Earth way. Fuck. Was this place even real or was I just ...unconcious somewhere? "We were courting."

That made sense to Legolas and from the actual hurt there, I wished I hadn't said it. "I didn't remember and now ..."

And now I didn't know if I wanted to 'court' that guy. I felt something but... the first memory of him and whatever I had felt before the head injury, I wasn't sure if I … I didn't know. Over the past month I had started to like myself, be happy about my body even though it was a bit bigger, and feel like my archery was actually worth admiring. Then this guy and this memory, and this 'Be Gimli, because you're the right body size.' thing came to mind.

"You wish to cancel our ..." He seemed really taken back.

"_No_." The strength and volume, and the sheer feeling behind that word, it surprised me how much I didn't want that. The way he looked at me, like I was some kind of goddess, and touched me without repulsuion, just the sheer idea of …

Aragorn must have heard it, because he glanced back, and I lowered my voice. "No. It's just ...I'm confused." It was lame, I knew that, but it was all I had. Confused and hurt and suddenly having feelings for a guy who seemed like a jerk. "It was a memory. I don't even know if we are still... if he's still my boyfriend. But I remembered when he said I was too short and round to cosplay as one of the women from-" Lord of the Rings, "-from Middle Earth. So I went as Gimli. He went as you."

Legolas blinked slowly. A man had gone as him. Dressed, as him, admiring him. "As me."

"He admires you, I guess." I said quietly.

"They know of us? Before we knew?"

Uh oh. How did I explain that? I shrugged. "I guess... so."

"How many in your world know of the Fellowship?" Legolas shifted closer, voice soft, glancing around as if someone from 'my world' was about to pop into the boat. "Of the Ring?"

"I don't know." It was only a half lie. I didn't really know. I knew we'd known, clearly, we'd dressed up as them. But then? We'd been playing, relaxed, no danger. Right now? I was in a boat, floating down near Frodo and the Ring, and could have been killed by a troll, orcs, and a Balrong. A real one. Not a fake one. Just a few miles away, maybe, orcs had just feasted on raw horse meat. Real Orcs. Bad ones. Ones that raped women even. And if they found us, they'd kill us, and take Frodo. Or maybe they'd just kill him then and there.

Whatever we'd been doing, it had been a game. This was fucking real. I shifted on the wooden seat, reaching out to touch the water, the coolness slipping through my fingers. I answered, half hating what I said, but, "I think … a few." The lie weighed on me the secnd I said it. I didn't know.

"The child, would she know?"

The child? I blinked at him. The girl, I remembered, the one that had been found with me. She'd barely been on my mind. I guessed, because she was with the Elves, she was safe. But … "She might..."

Legolas and I sat there, quiet, as Gimli paddled after the other boats. Concern was on his face. I wasn't sure what to say. What could we do? Ring Elrond? I stared at my phone. 'Emergency calls only.' Yes, this might be one, but probably not what the phone meant.

"How many know in your world of us?" Legolas asked softly. He actually turned to face me in the boat, arms on his legs, fixing me with a stare that went right through me. Trust an Elf to turn in a boat this size without rocking it, seriously.

"I don't know. A lot, maybe."

"We are famous?"

I nodded, shifted awkwardly, not sure how to … but at least it attracted away from jerk of a boyfriend memory. "Well, yeah. But I don't ...remember anything about it. I just ...know that you're all known."

"What about you?"

"I wasn't meant to be here." I muttered. It was true. "I wish I remembered more."

"If we are known..." To my surprise, Legolas actually smiled then, a smile full of energy which made heat flood my chest. He reached out to take my hands and squeezed them hard, voice soft. "Then we may succeed without Gandalf, if your people heard of our deeds, and this Fellowship may yet succeed. The man you courted was wrong, Wenduin, for no man would view you as anything but a woman. The three of us must keep this quiet." He glanced back at Gimli. "Of what we have learnt."

"I won't speak of it." Gimli grunted, glancing back, and glanced down at my chest ."You don't look like me. The man was wrong."

My cheeks heated as he turned back, the shadow in Legolas face fading, as he knelt forward to touch my face again, before he turned around to face forward. "Let us catch up. Lord Elrond will guard the child."

I stared at his back, as he sat still, words dancing in my head. I wanted to keep ...being intimate? I didn't want him to draw away? That the guy I'd seen was a jerk? That I'd started to feel as if I was actually desirable with Legolas? Hell, not just Legolas, Boromir too.

As we went on, I fiddled, quietly staring at the photos. While the first, the background of my phone, had triggered memories, nothing else did. They were strangers to me, everyone, and the names on the list were equally as strange. I had 'Mum', 'Dad', but that was it, and they had no photos to go with the names, nothing except for a number that meant nothing to me. 'Work' was just as elusive. There was even a couple of movies on the phone, and some books, but by the time I got to them, the already low battery was now giving warning vibrations.

"Keep it hidden, Wenduin. The light would be noticed by the others." Gimli had turned to hand Legolas the paddle.

It was getting dark and reluctantly I turned off the sound and switched the phone off, so that the light wouldn't be noticeable on my face. It was probably better to hide it. Gimli and Legolas had taken it well, sort of, but the others might not.


	6. Betrayal

That night, we could finally rest on the bank for a few hours before returning to the boats, and I spent some of the night paddling, some of the night asleep, the conversation dancing in my head. I tried to keep the phone hidden so I resisted touching it during the night- the light would show up- but I wanted to. I wanted to find out what else it had on it. The battery probably needed charging anyway.

Boromir avoided me. He just ...wandered off, if I came, he spoke as if I wasn't there, and somehow this hurt more than anything else. Yes- we'd already been separate in the boats, but suddenly... his silence hurt more than any insults. I liked the man. I hadn't meant to hurt him. I couldn't sleep well that night, wishing he'd let me come close to speak, to ...I didn't know. Talk about what he'd seen. What it was. Tell him that ...what? I liked Legolas? It seemed so childish.

When light came on the third day on the river, the landscape had changed, the cliffs almost gone now, the hills rising up. Legolas was tensed again, as if he could sense something, and the mood of the Fellowship hadn't improved. I felt it, as everyone probably did, that we were a long way now from the safety of Lothlorien. That we were back on a deadly quest of some kind.

I put the phone in the sunlight with the solar panel charger, waiting, while Legolas kept an eye on the banks. He seemed to be at ease with the phone now, either that or there were worse problems, because he was distracted all day. So I played Angry birds between paddling. Silly, yeah, but somehow... it helped.

We stopped that night, before it got dark, Aragorn calling something out about 'bathing'.

Legolas glanced towards the east bank and said something in Elvish, hurriedly. I hoped it wasn't 'There's a bunch of Orc over there'.

Aragorn was already stripping his tunic off though. "Yes, Legolas. Sam, make a small fire, and cook the last of the meat. We may not have a few hours to wash for some time, or to eat, so we eat, we bathe, and we wash. The meat should be finished while we have some distance."

Sam was already tugging his frying pan off his pack, eagerly asking, "Can I cook the bacon?"

"It should be safe enough." Aragorn nodded. He glanced up to Boromir, who was already walking away, "Boromir?"

"Wood." Boromir's eyes met mine, he flinched, and turned his back to us. "I will find it."

"I'll try and catch a fish." Pippin offered.

Aragorn nodded, a small smile on his face, and turned to me as he flung his shirt on the bank. "Will you bathe though it is dark?"

"Yeah." I needed to. I stank. Cold water didn't scare me right now.

"Legolas will guard you then." He didn't even have to ask. I didn't mind this time. I nodded, turning to Legolas, who was already heading in the opposite direction to Boromir. Aragorn called after us, "Do not be long."

I waded into the water over the pebbly beach, the faint moonlight on us, and washed as fast as I could with the small bar of soap I'd had packed. I could feel Legolas gaze on me, sort of, but it felt different to Lothlorien. When I got naked in Lothlorien, it was ...well, lust, and affection, and intense focus on me.

I twisted around to gaze up at him in the water. He stood there, eyes on me, but ears everywhere else. No real lust, not really, except for a trace of affection, his focus on the world. Guarding me and the Fellowship. It wasn't just that though. He heard something.

"You hear Orc?"

Leoglas nodded, vaguely, his gaze going over me to the far bank. "More than that, I feel. We are safe to rest overnight. Aragorn is right." But still, his grip on his bow wasn't faltering, and he was as tense as a coiled spring. How he kept that energy held so well was beyond me... he seemed ready for battle day or night without rest. Elf thing again.

The urge to ask him what he'd meant by the 'l word' rose but I didn't want to distract him. So I finished washing, the clean cold water feeling amazing, before wading out slowly, my wet shirt clutching to my body tight. This did get Legolas attention, who stepped forward, reaching out with his free hand to run his hand along my side. Heat blossomed in my face and body at that slight touch, his head ducking down, kissing the side of my neck slowly.

"No man has this body, Wenduin, and you do not resemble Gimli." He murmured. Whatever those Gimli slashers thought... he was apparently more turned on by me right now, than the idea of Gimli.

"Do you always picture Gimli when you're touching me?" I teased, inhaling as teeth nipped my neck, legs trembling while the tip of his bow ran up the inside of my thigh. Oh yeah. So this was what they were for.

"Never." The hand slid up, under my shirt, and I felt his hand tremble, the soft growl of lust in his voice. He grasped the leaf he'd given me, under my shirt, between my breasts, fingers spreading out to stroke the sensitive skin around it. "When we are safer-"

"In the water?"

Legolas laughed, a deep laugh, as he dropped his hand and his bow. "My Lady, in the water, if that's what she asks for. But-" The sound of something falling, Legolas spun around, blocking me, his good mood vanishing, and instantly his body blocked me.

Boromir stood there, face drained of blood, pieces of branches dropped around his legs. stared at us. I felt naked, aware of how transparent the shirt was now, of how so much thigh and legs were bared, everything... and was suddenly glad that Legolas was between us, because the look on Boromir's face, the anger, the hurt, it was back again. It stabbed deep inside me.

He turned, striding away, only bending to snatch up another piece of wood to add to his armload. Legolas only relaxed when he was gone.

"Be careful of him, A'maelamin." He muttered, turning to me, and held out my spare shirt.

Somehow I knew he was right... I felt it too. Where Legolas was a coiled wire, Boromir was so tense that he felt like he was about to snap, and I didn't like it. I dressed quickly, clothes sticking to damp skin, and took the damp shirt back to where Sam now had a little hot fire going. I draped it over the big rocks on the beach beside Aragorn's now wet shirt.

"Did you see him?" Legolas spoke softly to Aragorn. For a moment I thought he meant Boromir but Boromir was right there.

Aragorn nodded, glancing at the hobbits, then at Boromir. "We did."

Legolas nodded, his cryptic question bothering me, but he didn't offer anymore information. See who?

Boromir didn't speak, just sat there, staring at the fire. Sam handed out plates of food, mostly meat, and there was even pieces of a fish. Pippin was clearly successful in his

"Have some food, Mr. Frodo." Sam offered Frodo a plate, who sat there, looking numb.

"No, Sam."

"You haven't eaten anything all day. You're not sleeping, either. Don't think I haven't noticed. Mr. Frodo…"

I blinked. I'd been so caught up in my own shit I'd barely thought about him. Fuck. I was a pretty useless Fellowship member apparently. Frodo looked strung out worse than any of us. I wanted to help but...

"But you're not! I'm here to help you. I promised Gandalf that I would." Sam shoved the plate at him. Frodo got it, whether he liked it or not, shoved into his lap. Sam was still doing a good job of keeping an eye on him at least.

Boromir too, I noticed.

Frodo said quietly, "You can't help me, Sam... Not this time... Get some sleep."

Sam didn't seem to know what to do. Neither did I. Frodo seemed so ...distant. It was like he was pulling himself away from the rest of the Fellowship. Was the ring taking his mind?

Was the ring taking Boromir's mind?

I didn't know. I breathed out slowly, trying to eat, watching as Sam did what he was told. He curled up, plate beside him, and tried to sleep.

"I caught another!" Pippin's soft cry from the bank came. Sam sat up, suddenly, as Pippin rushed up with another wriggling fish in his hands. It was a pretty big fish, as long as Pippin's arm, and he was struggling with it, nearly slipping over the wet pebbles.

"I'll just cook one more." Sam decided, glancing at Frodo, who didn't seem to notice. "Just in case we're hungry on the river tomorrow."

The hobbits had fun with the last fish and it wasn't long before they were all curled up, all four of them with plates in front of them, like they couldn't quite decide between eating or sleeping. I sat there, quiet, staring ahead at the river, trying to muster up the will to eat something too.

Boromir stood up, suddenly, face shadowed by that now too familiar darkness. He headed for Aragorn, as the hobbits got to work killing the poor fish with a knife, and I twisted around, watching them. It looked like Boromir was about ready to go into battle right now. With Aragorn. I stood up, muttering about bathrooms, and headed for the rock. Legolas was gone somewhere, I noticed, probably scouting.

"Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know it. From there we can regroup…strike out for Mordor from a place of strength." Boromir glanced at me, meeting my eyes, and he frowned, shoulders squaring.

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us." Aragorn said softly.

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves." There it was, that stare at me, that anger, and... desperation? He didn't just seem angry. He seemed hurt. He went quiet a moment, hands clenching, before he turned back to Aragorn, voice raising. "Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honour to be found in Men. But you will not see that." Boromir's anger was rising, however much he tried to hide it, and I saw something in his face snap as Aragorn turned away. Boromir grabbed his arm. "You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows!"

I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Frodo was watching them too, the two of us, his eyes wide in the reflection of the tiny fire.

''You're scared of who you are, of what you are." Boromir snapped. "They take advantage of you."

That last sentence did not feel right. I wondered if it was directed at me or Aragorn. Or both of us? Quickly, before Boromir could turn to me, I headed for the forest, deciding it was a better idea to avoid this argument. As I hurried off, I heard Aragorn's retort, relieved somehow. Gondor was starting to feel like a prison.

"I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city."

The quiet of the forest was almost a relief. I stood there, staring out, breathing out as I saw Boromir's face. He had been so hurt. It haunted me big time. I grasped for my phone, tugging it out, breathing out slowly.

"You should not be alone."

Boromir's voice made jump. I stared at him, as he walked slowly close to me, and shoved my phone back in my pocket. He was upset and … I cared about him. I really did.

"I know, you know." I said quietly. "That men are good."

"Do you?"

I nodded, wishing I knew what to say, what to do to make him feel better. Boromir stood beside me, breathing in and out slowly, staring into the river.

"You are the lover of the Elf?"

I nodded. May as well admit it.

"Why not me?" Boromir's question was incredible, it was like a slam back to reality, and he turned on me. The hurt, the anger, the betrayal, it was back again. "Why not your own kind?"

"You?" I blinked at him, speechless, as he stepped towards me. "Because I like him."

Like was the wrong word, the absolute wrong word, and pain flashed across Boromir's face. He stepped closer, towering over me, and I felt extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden at the darkness crowding his face, the jealousy burning. "And not me?"

"I like you to-"

Boromir's lips crashed against mine, shoving me against a tree, his hands grabbing my wrists and shoving them above my head. But he wasn't rough, exactly, not until I tried to shove him back, not until he saw my eyes were still open, and felt my mouth refuse to return his attempts at a kiss. "You sleep with him. With Aragorn too, I suspect."

What! "What! No!"

"Who else, Wenduin? The Dwarf? The hobbits? Am I not good enough?" Boromir didn't seem to hear me, he was staring down at me, breathing hard, so much hurt in his face. "Is my brother not good enough?"

"Boromir, I'm not doing that with anyone except-" I may have as well had slapped him with 'except' so I hurriedly skipped finishing that sentence, "Boromir, I'm not marrying your brother!" I snapped. It was probably the wrong thing, I realised, because his fist slammed into tree inches from my head, his body literally shaking, all the years of pain at seeing his brother rejected piling into his head, his heart, I could see it, this shadow, this stuff he'd tried to ignore. Staring at me. Focused at me. I tried, "Boromir, calm down!"

"Why do you reject us?" Boromir behaved as if he hadn't heard me, shoving me back against the tree, shaking. "Why do you give your affection to all others?"

"You're my frie-" I gave up and opened my mouth to shout, deciding this was probably the good time to yell for Legolas, but Boromir shoved me face forward into the tree, his hand clasping over my mouth, dragging me back against him.

"Do not yell- do not bring the Orcs on us." He breathed against the back of my neck. I stared up at him, dazed, confused, it didn't make sense.

That scared me. What if they were nearby? What if it did? But when I felt him trying to peel my leggings down, I changed my mind, deciding that was a much better choice. I struggled against his arms, disrupting his attempts, caught between his body and the tree. I turned, suddenly, trying to dislodge him.

A fist crashed into my stomach, winding me, and before I could recover, something was wrapped around my wrists, my mouth, Boromir shoving me onto the ground. It was as if I wasn't even there anymore, as if he couldn't even see me, like the man was possessed. It scared me so much... I wasn't Wenduin now, I was something else, something that symbolised all his pain, the rejection, everything. Something that made the raw broken parts of him come to the surface, aided by that fucking ring.

"I offered..." He was saying to himself, shaking, as he reached for his leggings, drawing them down and throwing the to one side. "You rejected him. I only need... comfort. I only ask for that which is freely given to others."

Oh god. I tried to roll away, but he was kneeling between my legs suddenly, dragging my leggings off one leg and out of his way, and when I gripped my knees together, Boromir grasped my knees with an iron grip, his hardness springing up between us, dragging my legs apart, moving to kneel between them. No matter how much training I'd tried to do, I wasn't strong enough to fight off a warrior like this, and I knew it. I tried to yell through the gag instead.

Boromir dragged my legs upwards, his hips coming down, and guided himself there, his eyes clouded and unfocused, lost ...somewhere else. With a groan, he buried himself inside me, not seeing the tears prick my eyes, his hips slamming hard up into my hips.

"You are... never to be with any other. Only us." He whispered, against my ear, his arms coming to wrap around my body, embracing me, hugging me, lips kissing my neck. My heart broke at the sound in his voice, the heartbroken tone, as if he was about to cry himself. "Love us. Stay with us. We need you. He'll never love you like we'll love you."

He started to move, slow at first, but then faster and harder, sending waves of pain through me, his heavy body crushing me into the twigs and leaves under me, his eyes shut. I moaned against the gag in pain, shutting my eyes as well, trying to not feel it. I did though. Everything.

It went on for what felt like hours, I kept pleading for Legolas or Aragorn or someone to come and stop him, screaming in my head as a hand slid up my tunic to grasp my breast, and he dragged the gag down, kissing me desperately as he forced himself into me. I tasted salt, opened my eyes, and saw tears... actual tears, running down his face, his eyes shut.

"Please. Love him. I have seen my death and I know, now, there is nothing else for me." He pleaded, quietly against my mouth, his eyes shut, as his hips drove up into me again and again. "This, I have saved for him. You and this child are all I can give him..."

This child? I stared up with shock as he started to really move hard, skin slapping, and suddenly he pushed it hard into me one last time, so hard that a wave of agony filled me, I was sure he'd torn me open. Boromir froze, his mouth open, eyes opening to meet mine. I felt his hardness twitch and then suddenly heat was flooding me deep inside my womb, heat that filled my body and pushed out between us, so much that it just added to the pain.

He was trying to get me pregnant. I stared up at him, shocked, hurt, and ...sad. I expected him to roll off me but he didn't. His body didn't grow soft. He started to move again, fast, kissing me hard again, grinding against me.

"Please..." He pleaded, softly. "Accept it. Please. Give him a child."

I stared up past him, at the sky, hearing my voice beg and plead for him to stop now, but it didn't feel like I was the one saying it. Nothing felt real right now. I could barely feel it anymore. When he stopped, I barely noticed, I lay there still, my head spinning.

We lay there, panting, eyes shut, for what felt like a very long time.

It was only when we heard Aragorn calling that Boromir seemed to come to his senses. Seemed to snap out of it, seemed to really see me, and horror flooded his face.

"Wen...Wenduin..." He nearly fell back, so desperate to get away from me, staggering to his feet as he stared at me as if he'd only just seen me for the first time.

Who did he think it was? I wanted to ask. I couldn't. I was afraid I'd cry if I talked. I shut my eyes, bare legs exposed to the air, no energy to close them as he leaned against a tree, and then he was coughing, and when I opened my eyes I saw him bent over, retching into the bushes. The world spun around us both.

Boromir tried to pull me up and I flinched. "I... will turn myself in. When we return to Gondor."

Huh? I opened my eyes slowly, staring up, and found myself face to face with his horror-stricken expression as he stared at me. The trance was gone, the darkness, there was just Boromir, his eyes averted from my legs, his face drained of blood.

"I tell my soldiers... to never do this. Never. Our laws... our honour. We never do this. And here I... Wenduin, I am so sorry." He reached out again, then withdrew his hand, shaking. "I will not ...I will tell Aragorn if you intend. I will ...leave. I have betrayed you in the worst way. I should not have... I do not … if you love the Elf... I ..." He was stuttering, shaking, his face white. "I am no friend to you... no friend does such a thing."

"No." My voice croaked, and he blinked at me, sitting back on his knees. The fellowship was breaking. I couldn't do that. It would be so wrong. "No... we have to stay together. To protect Frodo. Right? Protect Frodo. Destroy the ring. Duty." And vomit. I wanted to vomit now. I felt so sick, so dizzy, I felt like I wasn't really here... like I was somewhere else.

"Destroy... the ring. Duty." He said the words slowly, as if he couldn't understand them straight off, his eyes fogged and his body leaning against a tree. My words made something in Boromir's face crack, guilt, and he shook harder, tears starting to run down his face once again. He sat there a long time staring at me. "Tell me. Tell me what I can... It is as a dream now. I felt … as if it was not me. Tell me what I can do."

"I don't know." I tried to not cry, tried to will my body to calm down, heart still pounding. It wasn't him. I knew that, of course I fucking knew that, and I wanted to throw that fucking ring into the fire myself now. Boromir's mind was starting to crack. "Let's just... pretend it didn't happen, okay? We've got a job to do."

"I am... sorry. I do not know what came over me. Please..." He reached down to touch me and I flinched. "I will accept whatever punishment deemed appropriate. I will remove myself from Captain, and allow the law of Gondor to judge me… I am sorry. If there is a child then... you need not fear for help. Never."

If there is a child. I breathed in again, hysterical, trying to calm myself.

This reminded me that I hadn't bled the whole time I'd been here. Not once in six weeks. I was already late.

Slowly I stood up, cringing, trying to make myself look normal. Hard to do with a torn tunic. I moved after him, gathering up twigs, and tried to joke about how Boromir had gotten all the good wood. He didn't smile, he just knelt there, dropping wood onto the bank.

I didn't look at Boromir that night. I couldn't. I forgot how I got back to camp, or what I did, but I knew I stayed in one position pretty much the whole night, rough ground or not. When Aragorn woke me I felt just as sick as last night and I only ate through sheer willpower. I sat there, numb, barely responding to him, only really paying attention to the world long enough to confirm that it was still night, though there was some lightness in what I had to guess was the east.

"What is it?" Aragorn stared at me. I felt like he knew, I felt like it was obvious, but … I doubted he'd let it slide if he knew.

"Legolas scouting?" I smiled weakly. "Just a sore stomach."

"He is looking ahead. We are not far."

Legolas was still away. I wished he'd come back.

"Wendy and I had an argument but we came to an agreement." Boromir said softly. He placed his hand on my knee and I shut my eyes, resisting the urge to draw away. "A debt owed when we succeed. I lost my temper."

I nodded, smiling weakly, adding, "I'm really just thinking about the road ahead now. We can figure that out later."

Truth was, I wanted to tell someone, anyone. But I knew it would be bad. The Fellowship was already breaking, wasn't that what Galdrial said? I knew that kind of thing would be a good way to do it... and I'd seen Boromir's face when he'd pleaded. I knew he was a good man... but this side of him, this desperate side, this side that would force someone just so he could get his way... it scared me. I didn't know what to do, how to react, and so I decided to not do anything.

But what if he tried to harm someone? Would he harm Frodo? It wasn't just me this dark side had started to appear, although he'd hidden it better from Frodo, this side of him that was being torn apart by guilt and worry. I breathed out slowly. I couldn't stay near him for too long. I didn't know if I could trust him. But maybe I could ask Pippin or Merry to keep an eye on Frodo, make sure he didn't wander off, and they might not think it was a weird request. After all, Frodo was increasingly quiet, increasingly prone to vanish for a while.

Legolas returned later that night, speaking softly to Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli of Orc. Aragorn sighed, stood up, and went to shake Sam and Merry awake. Legolas avoided staring at me but I was sure his attention was glued onto me. It was strange.

"Wake, Merry, Sam. We must move."

"What is it?" Sam said sleepily, sitting up, staring around.

"Orc tracking closer than we thought. We will go through the night."

Again. I stood up slowly, helping as we packed, pain shooting up between my hips with every movement. The men took turns, at the edge of the river, relieving themselves behind a bush, and I ducked behind one for a moment myself.

I slid into the boat behind Legolas and leaned back, quietly, watching as Aragorn and Boromir moved into the water ahead of us.

"Don't let Boromir near me alone." I said quietly and heard him inhale slowly.

"Has he hurt you?" Legolas tensed as he glanced back at me, staring at something on my shoulder, "You have scratches on your back."

I had them on my bum too, I wanted to say, and who said sex outside was fun? But I couldn't say it. We had something to do. "Not on purpose." It was the truth though it felt like I was making excuses for him. Legolas didn't answer. I tried a different topic instead. "How far do we go downriver?"

Gimli crawled into the boat between us, the boat sinking down, and we pushed into the water.

"A'maelamin ..." Legolas said quietly, staring back at me, paddling slowly. His eyes bored into me and I felt uncomfortable, tired, sick... I didn't want to be stared at. "By morning, we will be at the end of the river. You and Gimli should take this chance to rest. I will paddle."

"Good. I'm tired of water." Gimli announced, glancing back, apparently unaware of the tenseness. He reached into the water, starting to damp his beard, and ran soap through it.

Legolas nodded quietly, turning, but his hand came behind to brush across my leg briefly. I flinched and he tensed more.

We didn't speak for a long time. I knew Boromir was watching me, I kept feeling his gaze on me, but I didn't doubt how bad he felt. And I was late. Was I usually late? I didn't know. I did vaguely remember that women who were heavier had irregular periods, and that stress could also slow it down, so I seriously doubted I was pregnant. And now that I thought about it, even though Legolas had a 'release', nothing had come out. Elves could control that? Neat trick.

But what about Boromir?

We drifted through deep cliffs, slowly, thin winding cliffs that crowded over us, hiding most of the night sky. I couldn't stop it this time, I was exhausted, emotional, hurt, and sleep came so easily, whisking me away from the reality of what had just happened.

A hand shook me, and I blinked sleepily, Legolas pointing up.

Giant men. The Kings of Old.

I knew them. I stared up, amazed, as we all did, at these giant Kings that towered over us. They were ancient, so old, and I wondered how old they'd be... hundreds? Thousands? Aragorn gazed up in them at open awe, Boromir glancing up as well.

"They were made by Kings long dead." Legolas explained softly. "Aragorn's kin. We are close."

Aragorn came closer, calling across the water, "We will rest on the west bank for a short while, recover our strength."

This seemed to give Legolas some energy, he paddled a bit faster, and I felt it. We had to be close.

"Not far?" I asked, guessing the answer.

"No." Legolas pointed ahead. Ahead of us was a great wide river, surrounded by forest, and a mist rising. A waterfall? I had no idea what else it'd be. "There- we stop. Aragorn will show us."

I nodded, gazing behind me again, the heads of the Kings over the cliffs.

"Gimli." Legolas handed the paddle forward. The second he'd taken it, Legolas had done his 'twist around in the boat effortlessness without turning the boat over again' thing, shifted close to me, and grasped my hands, holding them hard.

"What?" I asked weakly, as his eyes bore into mine, one of his hands reaching up to stroke across my neck.

"Mela en' coiamin, are you injured?"

I breathed in, eyes involuntarily going towards Boromir, which Legolas naturally caught. He frowned deeper and I tried, "Boromir lost his temper. He hit me in the stomach. But he's … an honourable man. There are laws in Gondor against that." I didn't lie. I could only tell him this much. Later, when Frodo wasn't a priority, I'd tell him more. "He has sworn to uphold his law when the Fellowship ends. I'm just a bit sore. I'm not angry. I know it wasn't him doing it. It was the..." It was the ring. I was hurt in more ways than one though. I frowned, uncomfortable, feeling the ache in my stomach increase.

Legolas nodded, quiet, glancing at Boromir, who was too far ahead to know about us. "If Boromir forgets, and Aragorn does not remember, I will."

I kind of felt like Boromir hadn't lied, somehow, the look in his face after... but I nodded.

"Don't tell-"

"Boromir has already informed him."

My heart sank at that. Had he? Did Legolas know? I felt so ashamed, suddenly, Legolas hand tightening on mine. "Of?"

"Striking you and attempting to force you." There was a flash of something, but not anger, more like pity. Pity for a humans weakness? Or for me? Legolas glanced over his shoulder at Gimli, who hadn't heard him, his voice too soft. "Stay close to the hobbits now."

That hurt somehow. Stay close to the hobbits, helpless woman, in case another nasty man tries to force you. I flinched and tried to tell myself to calm down. He was right. I could fire arrows but fight off a fully grown man? Or what if I was alone and orcs came? No one should wander off alone. I tried to smile. "I'll be fine."

"From this place onwards, we do not walk alone." Legolas spoke louder.

This time Gimli did hear and he glanced back, calling, "Fine."

"You too?"

"Yes." Legolas smiled weakly, tugging my tunic up, his fingers grazing over the fist shaped bruise on my stomach. "The power of the ring strengthens. We must now work together. It tests us all."

That was an understatement of the age.

Some distance from the waterfall we came to a stop on a pebble covered beach. The mood seemed tense, Boromir sat there in the boat for some time, staring at his knees. It wasn't just me he was avoiding looking at. Frodo too.

I felt uneasy, afraid, and tried to remember Frodo. I'd been hurt. What if he hurt Frodo? I swallowed, trying to be helpful, gather twigs, whatever I could do.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." Aragorn's eyes went up. It was still midday I guessed from the position of the sun. A quick glance at my phone confirmed it. One in the afternoon to be exact.

"Oh, yes?! It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!"

Pippin stared up, alarmed beside me. Slowly I sat down beside Sam against some ancient ruins, cringing slightly as sore body met hard rock. Ow. He glanced sideways at me, smiling weakly, sharpening his sword.

"My behind aches too." He said quietly. "Those boats..."

"Festering, sticking marshlands as far as the eye can see!" Gimli was full of sunshine today, clearly.

Sam frowned, glancing back down to his sword, adding softly, "Still, I suspect we'll likely miss the boats soon."

"I think so." I agreed.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Aragorn didn't leave room for debate. Clearly his mind was made up.

Legolas was staring around, eyes and ears distant, somewhere else. This, and the growing deja vu, was starting to make me nervous. I reached for the sword that had hung ignored on my hip for the last three days, touching it, not reassured. I pulled it out, trying to sharpen it, copying Sam.

"Here, like this..." Sam showed me. "Like a kitchen knife." He yawned, resting sideways, sliding his sword back in and shut his eyes. "Who knew a boat was so tiring..."

"Recover my…?! Phrrrrr..." Gimli growled softly. I made a mental note- questioning a dwarf's energy was insulting. Right.

Legolas moved for Aragorn, uneasy, his face tense. "We should leave now."

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness." Aragorn shook his head.

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near...I can feel it!" Legolas muttered darkly, staring back into the forest, and his gaze made me shiver. I trusted his instincts big time right now. I felt it too.

Merry wandered down, dunking wood, the sound waking Sam back up.

"No dwarf need recover strength! Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit." Gimli informed Pippin, clearly still insulted, never-mind the fact that he was leaning more heavily on his axe right now than he usually did.

Legolas and Aragorn spoke softly, focused on their conversation, while Merry reached for his pipe.

"Thought you were out, Merry?" Pippin stared up at him.

Merry blinked, sheepish, and stared at the pipe in his hand. "I am. Forgot. Habit." He glanced around, looking guilty, and I swore I saw him shove something in his pocket. "Where's Frodo?"

Sam snapped awake at that. We stared around.

"Boromir..." I said quietly, half to myself, seeing the shield lying abandoned nearby. I hadn't even noticed him pass by me. Frodo? Boromir?

Oh shit. I stood up, cringing, dread creeping into my stomach. Boromir. Fuck. I had to find him. This was very bad. I knew it.

"We must separate..." Aragorn muttered, tense, sword already out.

Legolas nodded. "Agreed."

"Merry, Pippin, Sam, stay with Wenduin here..." Aragorn's order was pretty clearly a 'no discussions with this' situation, because he was already turning and running into the forest, Legolas and Gimli gone.

"Stay here?" Pippin blinked at me, then at Merry. "Was that an order?"

"Think it sounded more like a request." Merry decided, meeting my eyes, his hand going for his sword. "Didn't do all that sword training to cook Aragorn's dinner, did we?"

"Let's go."

I stared at the boats for a moment. Shit. Shit. We couldn't abandon Frodo. "Let's find him, drag him into a boat, and ...wait for the others in the river. Let Aragorn deal with Boromir. Screw waiting for night."

"Agreed." Sam's sword was out too, his face dark, attention on Boromir's shield. "I don't like it."

Every instinct was saying 'DON'T GO INTO THE FOREST'. So what did we do? Run into the forest.

I wasn't really sure where we were going, neither was Pippin or Merry, and Sam vanished within seconds.

"Sam?"

"Leave him, we won't get lost." Merry called, heading up the hill, feet slipping a little on the soft pine needles. "The camp's downhill. Easy."

"Easy." Pippin agreed.

Easy, apparently, but in reality... the forest started to look the same. I had a bad feeling, I tried to stick close to them, glancing back.

"Maybe... they'll come back to camp?"

"Frodo could be anywhere!" Merry shook his head,staring around, blinking. I'd heard it too. Boromir shouting out Frodo's name. "Boromir!"

I headed for that direction, legs shaking, determined, and the two hobbits followed. Boromir's voice, softer, calling... and it echoed. Then it vanished. I stopped, confused, staring around. Forest, more forest, slope, but where was the river?

"I think we're lost." Pippin muttered.

"Me too." I admitted.

"Should we go downhill to the river?" Merry asked, uncertain.

I nodded and we started down again. Sam's shout, we heard it, but it also echoed.

There was another echo. Growls. Growls that were NOT Fellowship.

"Oh, shit...' I whispered. I remembered this part. Oh shit.

"Orcs!" Merry ducked, suddenly, dragging me behind him. "Hide!" A tiny tiny tree, upturned, that would barely fit us... but Merry dragged us into it. I was squashed in the back behind them, pressed up against the rotting roots of the tree and their backs, as a handful of Orcs rushed past, barely missing us. I inhaled, fear rushing through me, staring wide eyed. I knew what they were. I knew what would happen.

And I was with Pippin and Merry.

Oh, shit. And Boromir...

Oh, shit. I swallowed, grief already stabbing through me, and instead of seeing what he'd done... I saw the other side of him. The true side. The warm, protective man, the loving brother, who only wanted to defend the people he loved, and a heart so big that it held his entire city in it.

I saw him dead. And, although I should haven't felt like this after he'd raped me. I felt devastated by the vision. He hadn't deserved this. He hadn't deserved the fucked up ring's power on him, he hadn't even wanted to come here, and he'd done his best. His best hadn't been good enough.

"Boromir..."

"Sh..." Pippin grasped my hand in his. "Courage, Wenduin..."

I nodded, weakly, shutting my eyes a moment, a wave of dizziness sweeping over me. I was so afraid of these things that I wanted to faint, to vomit, these girly emotions a serious first. But they weren't orc. They were something much worse and I knew that.

"Frodo!" Merry hissed.

I opened my eyes to see Frodo, as white as we were, but safe. For now.

"Hide here! Quick! Come on!" Pippin called, softly, trying to beckon. I knew he wouldn't. "What's he doing?"

Frodo shook his head at his, his face anguished, as if some part of him wished he could. I knew. He had to go. It was his time to leave. I swallowed, shutting my eyes, as Merry said what I already knew.

"He's leaving'."

"No!" Pippin darted out for him.

"Pippin!"

Merry chased after him, and me, trying to grab him and hide. This was not a good idea. But it was worth a shot.

Course, we were seen, and when I heard their roar, I nearly pissed my pants. Merry grabbed my arm, and Pippin, we stared at them like startled rabbits. How many? Six? Ten? Fifteen? I would struggle with one of them.

"Run, Frodo! Go!" Merry whispered. The brave stupid hobbit. He knew. He knew we had no hope with all these fucking Ur... things. His hands squeezed my arm and Pippin's arm, before he called, "Hey! Hey you! Over here!"

"Hey!"

"Hey!" I heard myself calling, Frodo's face in my head, knowing. This was probably the best thing I could do for Frodo right now, the best thing I'd probably done for him the whole Fellowship, and I'd fucking well stab as many Urk things as I could. Frodo had to get into that boat. I wasn't going to screw it up for him.

"Over here!"

"This way!" Pippin waved his arms, though he didn't have to, because they saw us.

We ran.

"It's working!" Pippin called, as we stumbled down the slope for the river, away from the direction of Frodo and the camp. Funny. NOW that I couldn't head back for safety, I remembered how to get back to it.

"I know its working! Run!"

I ran behind them, stumbling over trunks, over leaves, and we turned, moving along the slope instead of down it, heading for where they'd seen a bridge further down. We were doomed. I felt it. So did they, but they were so brave, and I swallowed down my own fear, stumbling and nearly tripping as we reached the bridge.

Pippin skidded to a halt in front of me. I nearly fell over him, staring up the slope, finding myself staring at another lot of Urk-things. Twenty? I couldn't count them, I grasped my sword, trying to yank out my bow, so afraid that I could barely think. They were going to kill me and capture the hobbits.

They were going to kill Boromir.

They charged at us, the lead with his axe raised to smash down on Pippin's head, as if he'd forgotten and...

Boromir charged past us, grasping the sword, using his sheer strength to throw it and the Urk-thing off the edge of the bridge. No time to speak, I found my arm thrusting the sword into the stomach of a Urkai through their leather, into the softness, hot black fluid splattering everywhere. The bridge was a trap- we were surrounded on both sides, and I tried hard, breathing hard, eyes wide with fear as I tried to focus, tried to slash, defend, heart hammering in my throat.

"Forgive me..."

Boromir, I heard him between clashes, his back brushing me. Only I knew he hadn't just come for me. I knew it, because I could see it, see Boromir dashing up to protect Pippin and Merry in a world where I didn't exist.

"It wasn't you." I hissed, through gritted teeth, and I believed it now more than ever. Oh, I still hurt, I was still angry. But … Boromir had been wounded too. He'd never have done that of his own choice. I felt it, I knew it, and I was FURIOUS at anything that'd hurt us both like that.. "I still..." I cut, knocked back almost, Pippin dragging at me just in time before I fell off the bridge. "Am your friend. It was that fucking thing. I'll throw it into the fucking-" Another slam, I tried to kill one more, only for it to nearly cut my arm off. Merry's jab from under my arm got it between the legs, knocking it down. "-lava myself for what it did!"

"Me too!" Pippin informed us all. He had no clue what we were on about, I hoped, but he seemed to be angry.

"And I will never ..." I slammed my blade into a Uruk Hai... "Marry your brother, however wonderful I know he is, so-" I was thrown back into Boromir's back, his hand steadying me, while his blade went for another one. "-let it go because I don't want to kick your as-" Something hard slammed into my head, knocking me over, dazing me. I heard a shout, or maybe I imagined it, tasting blood, more blood seeping out of my nose. I saw it again. Boromir, dead, dying.

"We must retreat to the boats!" His call cut through my haze, a hand tugging me to my feet, Boromir dragging us back. How many dead? I stared, mind spinning, but not just from the sheer volume of dead Uruk Hai Boromir had somehow killed during my four, but because things were flooding my head.

"No lady of Gondor would speak so foul!" Boromir panted. But he didn't seem upset. If anything he was amused, as we skidded down the hill. "But a friend of Boromir would. I am always your friend, Wenduin..."

Pippin laughed, a weak laugh, as we ran, only to slam into more of the stupid Uruk-Hai things, almost head butting them. Boromir flung his sword at one charging, piercing it right in the head, charging forward.

He shoved at us, shoved us down, ordering, "Stay near the hobbits, stay down!"

I went to stand, but my head swam, the sheer motion, and I tried to move. Boromir. He couldn't die. I was here. I could help. I could stop it. And if the fucker had gotten me pregnant, then he had to stay alive, this place was strange enough without a friend.

"Wenduin..." Merry pressed something against my nose, whispering, and I stared out. Boromir was fighting to protect the three of us.

Boromir was amazing. Incredible. A warrior. No wonder why I hadn't been able to fight him off. Even these things struggled, and there were two, three of them, trying to kill him. The wave of them were slaughtered so quickly that I could hardly believe it, black blood hitting the dirt of the forest floor, the leaves, the twigs, leaving dark shadows where the sunlight hit.

We knelt there, shoulder to shoulder, and when the last had collapsed, their innards decorating their bodies, Boromir gestured to us.

"Come, quickly. Run! We draw them away from Frodo." He hissed softly, tugging me to my feet, his hand squeezing mine. With a trace of humour, clearly teasing me, Boromir added, "And do not talk more, woman." He had lost that shadow, lost that darkness, there was only the Boromir I knew and liked. He raised the horn, blowing hard, as we ran. The man would die before he let Frodo fail. However much he failed with his struggle against the ring, against his own jealousy and desperation, he did not fail at a moment like this.

And it worked. Uruk Hai turned, ran for us, and while I couldn't see them, I could hear it. I could feel it. I could picture it. We ran, ran for the forest away from Frodo and the boats, scrambling down the slope, feet sinking in mud … or maybe it was blood, I didn't want to look down to find out... and the ground literally shook as every Uruk Hai followed Boromir.

So naturally he continued to blow the horn, between strikes, sweat pouring down his face, but with not a single scratch on him.

I ducked behind Pippin, slashing my blade, grip on the handle slippery with my own sweat and the blood from ...well, I didn't know, it was probably both mine and theirs, because the cut on my head was bleeding pretty good now. The beauty of the forest and the ruins was dotted with the abomination that was every Uruk Hai. Where was Aragorn? Legolas? Gimli? Was Sam safe? I couldn't think, these thoughts danced in and out, just shoved aside by the cruel pain that every blow of their crude blades caused in my shoulders, my back.

Pippin and Merry flung themselves at an Uruk Hai, like two angry bees, jabbing him anywhere they could get between the armour. I swung the sword, nearly getting it caught in the blade of another Uruk Hal's sword, their strange L shape clearly designed to snap my blade. If it wasn't Elvish I might have lost it.

"Run!" Boromir shouted. He stared, and I stared in the direction, wishing I hadn't. Ten? Twenty? No, it had to be more. Thirty? Forty? How many had Boromir already killed? How many were left? Far too many... Grouping. Thinking. Swarming us. He shouted, shoving at me, "Run! Get out!"

Now we were overrun. I turned, running, expecting Boromir to do the same., running some ten metres before Pippin and Merry froze and I turned to see Boromir standing there, sword, again fighting impossible numbers, fighting for our life. Not his. He wasn't fighting for himself- if he had been, he would have run with us.

"Run!"

Pippin and Merry picked up stones, throwing, and I grabbed for the bow, nearly dropping it in my haste and panic. Boromir was going to die. Arrows in him. I had seen it. I knew it. But it wasn't fair. He shouldn't have come. Screw what he'd done- I'd rather him live and spend the rest of his life making it up to me, rather than die for some selfish bastard of a father who'd pressured him to bring a stupid evil ring.

I fired, arrow after arrow, dropping more than one as my sweaty fingers couldn't keep grasp, my trembling hands failing me, legs threatening to buckle, and my head aching so much that my vision kept blurring, like I was seconds from fainting. Boromir fought, no longer with his attention on us, like he was a man possessed, and all I could do was fire arrows at legs, trying to disable them, trying to make his job easier.

It was one that caught my attention. While the rest ran for us, he strode, confidant, head bare of any helmet, with the aura of someone in charge. I didn't know if these things had 'in charge people' but …

He had a bow.

Arrows.

He was going to kill Boromir.

I aimed for him, hands shaking, and the arrow didn't even get close, I was too afraid, too dizzy, I couldn't fire properly, I couldn't even breathe properly. It smacked into a tree and he didn't even notice it, I'd missed by so much, he raised his bow...

There was no time for another arrow. I wasn't a magic speedy Elf.

"Wenduin!" Pippin's shout behind me, startled.

I was running. Running at Boromir, as the arrow was drawn back, I didn't see the Uruk Hai Boromir was killing, I only saw the stupid arrow. I ducked under his sword, jabbing him hard in the stomach with the blunt end of my own sword, pushing him back.

And something slammed into me. Something that shocked me, with the speed, the fury, and the strength of it. I stared at it. Something black was poking out of the light brown tunic, through the leather that held my boobs down, something that dripped red across a sharp black end.

Only when I really saw what it was and where it was did I feel pain. The arrow. Black tip pointing out of my shoulder. I was shorter than Boromir and it hadn't struck my heart, as it would have him.

He stared at me, mouth open, that same horrified look he'd had when he'd... and devastation. But when I met his eyes, I knew it, he was meant to die. Something slammed into my head, shoving me down, my head striking a log on the ground.

Boromir was meant to die. I remembered it.

"More than this, I know it in my heart. Boromir was my brother." Faramir's voice echoed through my head. Faramir. Frodo. The ring. And Faramir would not be tempted.

I saw Boromir's father, sitting there in the throne of the Steward, Boromir's horn in two.

His father, mad with grief, trying to burn Faramir.

His father seeing Faramir for the first time.

Time had slowed. I fell to my knees, shaking, Boromir's anguished cry echoing in my ears. I watched him, almost as if in slow motion, mouth opening and shutting. "You... you were meant to die."

I had screwed it up. Boromir's death. Faramir. His father. Boromir was meant to have died here and now. It was meant to happen to trigger something else. I had changed it. I had changed something crucial.

Oh god.

"Woman, talking. And-" Boromir swung hard, twisting. "-I will not."

I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch him die. I couldn't handle it. But I couldn't kill him. And now that he'd seen the Urak Hai, now that...

An arrow slammed into Boromir's arm, as he twisted around to stare at me, an arrow that should have met his . I could see it in my head- that version, Boromir's death, as if it was playing out also. Only I had changed things and …

He roared with pain and fury, I tried to sit up. The arrow had only grazed him, cutting flesh and muscle as it did, but it didn't destroy him. He swung the sword around, managing to keep the big black Orc things back despite his injury.

The thing was coming closer, the growl, the 'leader'. I was shaking, feeling so cold, the pain radiating throughout my body, my teeth chattering. In shock. I could see it all now, every moment, every second the Fellowship would take. And I was about to die. Had I ruined it? Should Boromir be dying?

"No, no... you were ... meant to die. For Faramir. For your father. Your death was supposed to ..." A sword came down for me, only for the leader to shout something, and I managed to make it go sideways by my her sword go under it. The pain this motion caused, and my head, I couldn't keep my grip on the sword, and I lost it as they slammed their axe into the ground instead. "Horn, in pieces, Faramir's test... the one you failed. Grief makes him... succeed..."

"Grief..." Boromir froze, staring at me, and to my horror, that moment was enough for a third arrow to finally find what the leader wanted it to find. Boromir's body. I didn't know why I was saying it. It felt like I wasn't totally here. Like I was dying. The words were slipping out.

I shut my eyes, trembling, so afraid suddenly. Boromir's face, haunted, taunt with pain, regret, echoed in my head.. The arrow in his body. Would he die after all? Would his death be my fault? How come I spoke?

He didn't deserve any of this. I hated his father. I blamed his father. Not Boromir. I blamed the ring. He shouldn't have to die. But ...he was going too. I was sure of it.

I heard screams, distant, and felt the ground leave. Felt armour under my stomach. A hand grasping my leg, the arrow jolted, but I wanted to sleep. My eyes opened, a moment, fluttered open, Boromir in my head.

He was kneeling, he was panting, black objects jutting out of his body, and then I couldn't see anymore.

The last time I opened them, Boromir was no where to be seen, and we were surrounded by Uruk Hai.

I was not okay.

I knew it. I knew that whatever that arrow was doing, it was very bad, and I was not okay. But I was alive. Only barely though.

I woke, tried to fight the urge to sleep, my body begging me to sleep, to fade away. I was tied up, I knew that much, arms around the neck of one of the foul smelling Uruk Hai, their arms holding my legs up.

The arrow was removed while we ran, I woke for that, this horrible pain as they snapped the end off, yanked the entire thing out, I screamed for that. It gave them pleasure to hear it.

And far too often, fluid was forced down my throat, this black sticky stuff that clung to my throat as if it was alive, and they'd make sure I was awake for that. I would wake to a slap, my head forced back, shit poured down my throat.

I knew that I was peeing myself, shitting myself, but I didn't have the energy to be disgusted. The creature carrying me didn't seem to know or care. They smelt pretty rank anyway.

What I did know was that they wanted me alive. That they treated the wound, while on the run, and that I wasn't the only one alive. Pippin and Merry. I saw them from time to time, at my side, I heard Pippin sometimes calling to me or Merry.

The pain kept waking me up, that and the 'medicine', and I saw the light fade. The stars come out. I stared up desperately, or tried to, but I could barely move my body. My eyes kept fluttering, trying to close, and time would pass. Sometimes it felt like hours, days, months, but sometimes it felt like time moved too fast between the medicine, that horrible sticky shit.

As their shit slowly worked, I started to wake for longer periods, and started to really get what deep fucking shit I was in. What we were all in. They thought Merry and Pippin had the ring. And me? I remembered everything about this. I knew where Frodo would go. I knew what would happen. I knew how we'd beat the giant flaming eye. Rohan, Gandalf was still alive, I remembered everything. About me? Nothing new.

But this?

If he tortured me, how much would I be able to hold it back?

Did Saruman know how much I knew?

And...

It wasn't just fear of torture. The hands that touched me, that really touched me, grasping, groping, laughter, cruel sadistic laugher as fingers forced my mouth open for the medicine, at my pain, at my suffering.

I had already been raped, though I still was stubborn about it not being Boromir's true actions, but now I was surrounded by them. Creatures. Evil fucking creatures that raped women.

Would Saruman offer me to them when he was done? Would he give me to them to get information? Would they be my torture? For the first time, I felt real fear, fear of being helpless, being a woman, vulnerable. Boromir felt regret. But these creatures? I doubted they'd even hesitate. I would die if they were allowed. But not before Saruman got what he wanted out of me. They would torment and torture me for days, weeks, I didn't know how long.

I drifted in and out of conciousness, plauged by nightmares of this, of Boromir raping me again, only it wasn't him. It was them. Sometimes I felt like it was real. I'd gasp, awake, still on the back of whatever it was carrying me, and find myself still dressed, still untouched.

Alive and unspoiled. He wanted all of us alive and unspoiled. But what when he got us?

I had changed the future. What if the horse riders didn't come in time? What if they missed us? I had delayed this. What if they didn't need rest now? Had they needed to stop to take my arrow out? I couldn't tell the difference between nightmares and reality. Day, or night, they felt the same, I didn't know how long we'd been carried. I was covered in filth.

I opened my eyes, shaking, staring up. Sometime new had woken me.

We'd stopped for real.

Pippin, on my right, was staring in Merry's direction. Merry was flopping, his head coated in blood, as unconscious as I had just been. And there was words being spoken ahead. The Uruk Hai had met up with the Orcs.

"Merry!" Pippin whispered, staring in my direction, his face drained of blood. I saw Merry between his head and the back of his captor, head lolling back, mouth open. "Merry! Wake up!"

Before I could stop him, he'd spotted one of the Uruk Hai drinking the 'medicine', and pleaded, "My friend is sick. He needs some water. Please."

I tried to speak, but I couldn't, my voice cracked.

"Sick, is he? Give him some medicine, boys!"

To my horror, Merry was force-fed the shit as well, nearly choking. This pleased them and I cringed, shutting my eyes, as one of them made eye contact with me. Not again. Please, not again.

"Stop it!" Pippin shouted, shaking, far braver than I felt. They laughed, as he shouted, "Leave him alone!"

"Why? You want some? Then keep your mouth shut." The voice, the new 'leader', made me shiver, and I met Pippin's eyes as he stared at me, then back to Merry.

"Merry..."

"Pippin." Merry's voice was gone too, that shit taking away his voice, and I cringed for him.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine. Just an act." Merry tried to smile, gazing at both of us, but he couldn't keep his eyes open, his head kept flopping. I knew it wasn't an act. He'd been hurt too.

"An act?"

"See? Fooled you too." Merry's smile faded and he shut his eyes. "Don't worry about me, Pip."

"Wendy?" Pippin caught my eyes, and I tried to smile weakly too.

"What is it?" There was a growl from nearby and the answer sent my heart up into my throat.

"Manflesh."

Pippin's eyes met mine again and I swallowed, hope rising despite myself, trembling. He grasped his pin, the leaf from Lothlorien, and tore it off. No one saw except me. I shut my eyes, head flopping back, and felt the smooth cool metal of Legolas' leaf.

He was right. We had to tell them we were alive.

Forehead against the back of the creature, I tore at it, the silver chain somehow easily coming apart, and I felt it slide away with both relief and horror, the loss of it ... it hurt, it scared me, as if I'd just lost Legolas' presence.

I knew they'd find Pippin's pin.

Would they find that too? Suddenly, it meant a lot to me, and my heart sank as we were carried away from it, the last connection I had to him. I should have done the brooch too.

I was suddenly aware of the ring Galadriel had given me, and clenched my hand, all my attention on that thin ring. When I shut my eyes, I slept again, slipping back into unconsciousness.

We were a day head of them. A full day.

It didn't seem like they'd ever catch up.

Time dragged by. Dark, light. Rain. Medicine. Pippin, trying to talk to me, and while I tried, I could only mumble, I couldn't even smile. My shoulder burnt, I felt cold, and hot, and trembly, I knew I was in shock.

Boromir's face danced in my head. The face he'd had when he'd ... but the face he'd had when I'd saved his life, that was the one I saw most, and the image of him dead. Dead in the boat. Was he dead? Had I killed him? Had I saved him, only to ruin what he'd start with his death? Was he chasing after us?

Legolas. The first time I'd really let him touch me, the amazement he'd had when I had muttered an apology for being 'fat', the intensity as he stared at me without any sense of disgust or loathing. He'd liked my body. Why had I waited till Lothlorien for that? It had felt so right, so good, I'd felt like some greek goddess, not like a fat cow.

Aragorn, his warmth, friendliness, and company. He was strong. I felt good around him, secure, I liked taking his orders.

I knew that right now, there would be Eomer finding the king's son, or being banished, I didn't know. Half the time I didn't have the strenght to lift my head to see if it was night or day. Against the black of their armour it always appeared to be dark, as my hair was loose, shielding light if there was any, hiding the Uruk Hai.

Water was forced into my mouth, stale rank water, moldy bread, and they forced me to eat. If I didn't, I'd choke. My cheeks were bruised and bleeding from them being grasped so often, from the Uruk Hai constantly harrassing me, and I knew it was out of pleasure that they kept doing it so often.

Time stretched out. I vomited, I trembled, and I would have screamed when they tre my leggings off, fear reaching fever pitch, but my fear and Pippin's anger just made them laugh louder.

"Relax, girl." A hand slapped my ass hard. "You're to be taken to him unspoiled."

"Shame."

I shut my eyes, cheeks burning, with only the shirt and tunic to cover me, my bare legs getting cut and bruised on the rough armour. When they dunked me in water, 'washing' me, I wished I could pass out, only somehow I couldn't do it.

"Don't touch her!" Pippin's fury burst out, as they dragged me back up.

"Oh, don't worry." The 'leader' advanced on him, grasping his curls, a vicious smile on his face. "We won't do it until we're ordered. And we will be. With all of you."

All of you? I got it. The hobbits. They were so small, so tiny, they'd be killed... and yet Pippin didn't seem to understand. However much of an adult he was, he didn't know, didn't know that men could even be forced that way. "Not ...them..." I pleaded, voice raw, the pain making tears prick.

"You going to sacrifice yourself for them?"

"Don't hurt them..." The words came out, though I didn't know where the bravery came from, because the look on the leader's face made it clear he liked that idea just as much as he liked the idea of forcing himself on Pippin. And he'd probably do it anyway. I shut my eyes, shame filling me, fear, disgust, as he reached out for a handful of flesh.

"Get moving!" He roared, suddenly, and the speed picked up.

How many days had it been? Two? Three? Ten? I didn't know. Blood seeped down my legs, from where my now bare legs rubbed against the armour, pain that I couldn't go unconcious from. My head was healing. My arrow wound was healing. And I couldn't sleep anymore- the pain in my legs was too bad, I couldn't escape it.

It grew dark once more. The Uruk Hai seemed exhausted, as did the Orcs, and they stopped beside a dark mass. I tried to see it, blinking, taking a few minutes to see it and hear the voices, as I was thrown to the ground on my stomach between Merry and Pippin.

"-till we've had a breather!"

"Get a fire going!"

Fangorn. Were we early? Late? I lay there on my back, blood seeping into the dry grass that scratched my legs, breathing hard, chest screaming in pain with every effort.

"Merry, Wenduin..." Pippin scrambled over, face etched and old with worry, bending over us.

"Think... we might have made a mistake leaving the shire, Pippin." Merry stirred, quiet, staring at me and at Pippin, face still pale and sickly. His hands, to my surprise, reached out slowly, and I felt his fingers trace through my hair. Was he trying to comfort me, even though he was so bad? I tried to reach up, shifting on my bruised arms, reaching up to grasp Merry's bound hands with my own. We were both shaking.

There was a groan from inside the forest, and we shifted up, staring through the darkness towards the forest. Pippin's hands joined mine and Merry's hands, the three of us pressed up against each other for protection and comfort. The moonlight was enough for us to see each other.

"What's making that noise?"

Merry rose up slowly, looking over our heads, in the forest. He seemed to be snapping out of it again. "The trees..."

"What?"

"You remember the Old Forest, on the borders of Buckland?"

"That's in the shire." Pippin informed me, cutting Merry, his eyes meeting mine.

"Folk used to say there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall... and come alive."

"Alive?" Pippin's eyes darted to the groaning forest again.

"Trees that could whisper, talk to each other... even move." Merry stared over Pippin's head at the forest, uneasy, then back to him.

"I'm starving. We ain't had anything but maggoty bread for three stinking days."

Had it really only been three days? I swallowed. I knew where this was going and I grasped Merry and Pippin's hands tighter in mine, protective, wishing I could ...grab them and run.

"Yeah! Why can't we have some meat!" The orc stared at us. Stared at us like we were edible. I swallowed. "What about them? They're fresh."

Something grabbed all three of us, a Uruk Hai dragging us to our feet, his sheer strength enough to easily keep us up as we were dragged away from the hungry orc.

"They are not for eating!" The leader growled, as Uruk Hai moved between us and them.

"What about their legs? They don't need those." The orc stared at our legs, all three of them, swallowing and licking his lips. "They look tasty." He started towards us, eyes fixed on our legs.

"Get back scum!" The leader shoved him back. "The prisioners go to Saruman. Alive and unspoiled."

"Alive?" The orc headed for us. "Why alive? Do they give good sport?" He was serious, fucking serious, and I suddenly ralised how ignorant I'd been to call the elves unearthly. These things? Monsters out of the worst sci-fi movie.

"They have something. An Elvish weapon. The master wants it for the war."

I swallowed. And what about me? What did he want with me? Whatever it was, he hadn't told this Uruk-leader-person. Pippin shifted closer to Merry, whispering something, and while I didn't hear it, I knew what he said.

The Uruk Hai thought one of us had the ring. I elbowed Pippin, as Merry did.

"Shh..." Merry hissed something, probably telling him to shut the fuck up, and I stared around. None of the Uruk Hai had apparently heard them.

Movement in front of us made me flinch, as the orc headed straight for us again, his blade raising high. "Just a mouthful... a bit off the flank..."

The blade raised over us and just as he was about to strike, something flew through the air. It took me a few seconds to get what I was seeing, what hot fluid was now coming out in a fountain over my bare legs and ruined tunic, and that he now had no head.

"Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!"

We were shoved aside, as Orc and Uruk Hai both dived for the now dead Orc, organs, intesetines, flesh, ripping, flying, thrown all about. I nearly fell on top of Pippin.

"Pippin, let's go!" Merry hissed. "Wendy."

I followed, crawling, bare legs scratching as we tried to scramble away on our elbows and bellies towards the dark forest. However dark it was, however alive it might be, and I knew it was now, it was better than here...

Something grabbed Pippin, dragging him back, and we twisted around awkwardly to see Pippin under an Orc.

"Go on, call for help..." The orc lifted his head up by the cheeks, as we tried to scramble back, to... I didn't know, kick him? "No one's going to save you now..."

I realized what was about to happen and threw myself back, knocking Merry back, who stared at me like I was mad. He was about to fling himself at the orc once more when it happened.

A spear. Into the orc's back. Pippin slid back, fast, as the now dead Orc collapsed.

"Pippin!" Merry hissed. He stared at me, and I shrugged, and we tried to crawl away, bodies weak with shock.

"Move, horses!" I hissed, trying to crawl away for the forest as fast as I could. Merry hesitaed, glancing back, and I saw why.

Pippin had frozen over an axe, cutting himself free, apparently not getting it. Big fucking horses. Spear happy men. About to kill us.

I twisted around to see him nearly crushed by a horse, rolling aside just in time, and he scrambled across to us, grasping for our ropes with a knife he'd dragged off his belt. Hands freed, burning skin in the cool night air, we scrambled, crawled, ducked, the hobbits darting under a horse, me around the back, trying to avoid being seen, my hood falling over my head and half blinding me.

"The belt!" Merry yelled, and I turned, to see him held back, his fingers scrambling for the belt.

"Run!" Merry yelled, grabbing my arm, and we ran for the forest as fast as we could, heads down, leaving the battle.

I flopped, strength giving way in the darkness of the forest, shutting my eyes.

"Did we loose them?"

The ent. Treebeard. I knew it. And I glanced back, at the men, knowing... this was where we had to seperate. Did I go with them or wait for Aragorn? I didn't know.

A shout decided it for me. "I'm going to rip out your filthy little innards!"

Merry and Pippin scrambled up, suddenly, leaving me there. I tried to stand, but collapsed, my legs giving way. I froze, hearing them crash into the forest without me, probably competely unaware I wasn't still following... and I froze, heart thudding, waiting for the orc to discover me helpless.

But he didn't see me. He rushed past, rushed for where he must have heard the hobbits crashing through the undergrowth, screaming at them, his words lost in the din of the battle just on the other side of the trees.

I heard the hobbits, I heard their screams, their calls and then... the ground shook. Had treebeard found them? Or was that the horses?

I tried to stand, stumbling, feet bleeding as I tried to follow their shouts, tried to find them. The Rohan men would come in here and would kill anything they found, without expecting to find me, I knew that...

"Run, Merry!"

The words shouted reached my ears and I stumbled across roots, I swore I felt trees move under my feet, skin tearing as thorns grasped me and tried to hold on.

A sudden glow blinded me, from deep in the trees, a great white glow. Gandalf. It was Gandalf.

Relieved, I stumbled towards the light, fighting the urge to slip unconcious again, to give into the pain and sleep.

I was almost there. Almost. Almo...

I slipped, banging my head on something hard, and when I woke, there was nothing. No sounds. No movement.

Just the early morning sunlight getting through the thick canopy.


	7. Rohan

A/N : I probably don't need to say this for most people here but you are seeing this through Wendy's eyes... and what she sees isn't always going to be _accurate_. :) This is the problem... what we see in the world isn't always how it really is.

So that's teh last of the spoilers for now.

She also does swear- I agree she might do it a bit too much, which I'll try and write more reaction from the others, and it's one of her big faults.

Well, besides the fact that she's probably useless with a sword if there wasn't more skilled fighters around.

Still always welcoming constructive crit! :)

* * *

No one was around.

Not Gandalf. Not the hobbits. Not treebeard. No one.

I found my way out, though it took some time, slowly. Stumbling. It was daytime, apparently, but it was just as dark as it had been last night, and half the time I couldn't see where I was going. I knew that the forest was watching me. I felt it.

And when I got out, I found that it wasn't early morning after all, but well into the morning. Midday maybe. When I fumbled for the phone I remembered it had been thrown away with my leggings, and anyway, the charger had been in my pack.

I shut my eyes, standing there, legs bare, so exhausted and weary. Dried blood was caking my head, my scalp, down my neck, more blood on my legs, arms, it felt like every part of me was bruised or bleeding somehow. I tried to cheer myself up. At least I hadn't been ...I wasn't sure how I'd cope with that if I had been.

When I found the fire, it had been dead for some time, and there was no sign of Aragorn, Legolas or Gimli nearby. But they had been here. There were things strewn about and I saw Merry's burnt belt on the ground. The helmet was in the wrong spot. But how could I be sure it was? Things had changed. Hadn't they?

Well, one thing was certain, I had already missed them.

I shut my eyes, fear running through me, and tried to think. Okay. So. Okay.

They'd be heading for Rohan. I knew that. Shiny white horse. Gandalf. Then after Rohan, Helm's deep. The problem was that I had no fucking clue what direction either of these things were.

I stood there, legs shaking, some part of me wishing I could just ...collapse. Give up.

Instead I walked, slowly, legs weak, stumbling forward into the hot sunshine.

It took me some time before my dazed mind could really form any sort of plan, as the sun slowly dragged down the sky, the time dragging out, and it was by sheer will that I kept walking. I would find a village. Find a horse rider. Avoid orcs. I would ask for directions, help, and I'd ...give this Lothlorien pin. Surely that'd be worth some information? Some food, maybe?

A lot of food would be nice.

Food...

My stomach rumbled at that reminder, as I stumbled, shutting my eyes as I tried to ignore the sharp hunger pains that rose up at the reminder. And the longer I walked, the thirstier I felt, throat drying out. Why hadn't I stuffed some lembas into my pockets in the boat? That might have been a smart idea.

I grasped for my phone and stared at it, tugging it out, finding the battery already dead. Of course. My own face stared back at me in the glass, bruises on my cheeks and neck, encrusted with filth and with wide eyes I didn't recognise.

"Okay." I said to myself, trying to stand up straighter, trying to focus. "Okay. Wendy. Let's find some water."

This was a great idea! The landscape was dry though. As I stumbled across, across dry landscape, past tiny shrubs, I was almost tempted to try and eat something I found growing. Drink anything.

Luckily I found water, a small creek, just a little amount that was almost running dry along the river bank. I knelt there for some time, drinking as slowly as I could manage so I didn't vomit, and when I had drunk my fill I tried to wash myself of blood and filth, hands shaking as I cupped the warm water and dragged it over cuts, bruises, wounds, stripping off the filthy tunic. I felt bad, ruining such beautiful water, but the feeling I got when I dragged the clean damp clothing on was worth it. The sun was hot, the birds sang, and I no longer had dark ugly patches of orc or human blood on me.

I pictured the hobbits. Right now, sitting on a walking tree, and sat there on the short dry grass, trying to hold onto that image. But my mind had started to loose all I'd remembered, as if it was a dream, and it was difficult to draw back up. I saw massive elephants in my head, with the hobbits talking to a tree.

I wasn't sure what the connection was between the two moments. Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe my mind was mixing up 'memories' of the future.

And Boromir? I still felt hurt. But I blamed the ring. I didn't blame him. How could I blame him? I couldn't do it, I just couldn't accept it, that some part of him would ever do something like that. After all, I'd seen his mind slowly crack, and I had been told to call for Legolas the second we were alone. Was it my fault? Maybe slightly...

It didn't matter. If he was dead... I could only see the real side of Boromir, the good side, and the sheer idea that I'd never see him smile again, never hear him joke, or offer words of comfort, see the pride in his face when it came to his people, his city, his brother...

And if he was alive, what would happen?

But I could see him in my head with one of those fucking huge arrows in him, then with more arrows, and I wasn't so sure I had really changed anything at all. I paused as I started up the hill once more, sliding my own tunic down, a big knotted scab over reddened skin. Orc medicine had healed it but it was still tender and very huge.

I breathed out, shut my eyes, and tried to let it go. I couldn't do anything for him by worrying and I had a town to reach. Erm, city. Something like that.

Once I had filled my stomach with water, I trudged back up the hill again, slow and determined. This land was cool, a cold wind ran across me more often than I liked, but the sun was hot and it dried my clothing and hair. It was amazing how being clean somehow helped energy levels, because as dazed as I was, I felt like I could really move now.

I saw a slope and headed for it. Deja vu? Good sign. Slope? I wanted to groan. Not another one. This place was all uphill. Halfway up it I glanced back, at the fields, the plains that stretched out, and some distance beyond... Fangorn Forest.

"Wow. Wendy, look how far you walked." I said to myself. I smiled weakly at that. Oh fuck. I was talking to myself. "Wendy... stop talking to yourself. They'll think you've lost your mind. They? I don't know who they are... oh, just stop it."

Then I saw them. I shut my eyes, knees going weak with relief, and started down the hill towards the three horses. Good old Deja vu. Saved me every time. Gandalf's horse seemed to speed up.

Gandalf seemed to be pretty much expecting me. He was the first to reach me on the white horse, dismounting, striding over with the staff in hand.

"Wow, look at you." I said weakly, smiling. "All shiny."

"Shiny?"

I hesitated, figured that I didn't care how much of a big special wizard he'd become, and flung my arms around him suddenly, just glad to see him. I really was! "Gandalf, welcome back."

The other two horses caught up at that point, Legolas and Aragorn jumping down, but I was busy hugging a stiff Gandalf. He stood there for a moment, stiff, then I felt him relax and he chuckled against my ear, his arms coming around me.

"Thank you, Wenduin."

"How was the Balrog killing?"

Gandalf leaned back, hands on my shoulders, staring at me with an unreadable expression. Then he glanced over my shoulders and smiled again, warmth returning, nodding slowly. "It was ...exhausting."

I turned around to find myself engulfed in Gimli, who took a few minutes to notice that I wasn't wearing any pants, surprising given how short he was. Legolas had a trace of a smile there.

"I was worried for you, lass. Where's... your leggings?" Gimli trailed off, as I tugged the tunic down, face red.

Somehow Aragorn and Legolas had failed to notice this too. I flushed, embarrassed, but it was the look on Legolas' face that really got under my skin. He thought I had been raped. So did Aragorn. I didn't blame them- my legs were torn up.

"It's not as bad as it looks..." I muttered, tugging my cloak around, the men's eyes diverting quickly. "They were ruined and they just ... they weren't allowed to do more than harass us a little. Alive and unspoiled."

"They did not harm you or the hobbits?" Aragorn said softly, his hand coming to rest on my arm, and I felt relief flood me.

"God, I missed you guys."

"Did they?" Legolas cut in, sharply, staring at the ruined skin. When I shook my head, he sighed, shutting his eyes a moment.

"Unless you count no food for three days, verbal abuse, and their terrible smell, no." I blinked. Boromir? Where was he? I shook my head and shut my eyes a moment. Suddenly, I was tired. Exhausted. I was just about ready to give this quest thing the quits. I felt my legs threaten to go once more. My knees actually gave way, to my embarrassment, and Aragorn's hand tightened on my shoulder.

"Wenduin..." Aragorn knelt beside me, drawing me to my feet, glancing down. "Here. Dress, and sit behind me. You can rest soon. You have endured more than many could." Aragorn reached for his pack, quickly, though it seemed a hell of a lot lighter than I'd last seen it. Leggings? Probably his only spare.

I wasn't complaining. I pulled them on under the cloak, slowly, and realised that... they were mine. My spare. From my pack. They must have ...hoped they'd find me alive. Emotion welled, as I was led back to the horse, Legolas with his arm firmly around my waist.

"Ride with me, Wenduin." Aragorn held out his hand, helping me onto the horse behind him, and I leaned against his back. Something was pressed into my hand. Lembas. Legolas smiled, a weak smile, emotion dancing across his face for a second before he hid it.

"Can you sleep there?"

"I've done enough sleeping." I replied, trying to eat, the crumbly stuff washed down with water from Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded, met Gandalf's eyes, and we moved away at a fast gallop.

They had chased us for three days and nights. "What about you? You're all tired too, aren't you?"

"We will rest for the night soon. I think a hot fire and a night's sleep is long earned." Gandalf called, meeting my eyes, and there was that twinkle of amusement there. I smiled weakly and nodded.

I was startled awake by the slowing of the horses, apparently having fallen asleep after all, and Aragorn jumped down, helping me down. Somehow the energy had started to return to my body, my legs holding me up better, and when I ate more lembas and felt more energy return, I was sure it was the elf bread. Magical elf bread.

"I will gather wood." Gimli reached out to touch my arm, hesitated, and then threw his arms around me, hugging me once more.

"I should-"

"No, lass. Sit down."

"You can tell me of what has happened over the past three days." Gandalf suggested softly, sitting beside me on the ground, his white staff with that warm glow I used to love.

"There isn't much I really remember..." I stared around, distracted, grief flooding me. Boromir wasn't here. Now I really knew what I'd wanted. Screw 'important deaths'. That man was important to Gondor. He was a friend. A friend I'd maybe never forgive about that, sure, but ...

"Wenduin?"

"Well, I had hit my head, so I slept a lot." I explained quietly. "They ran for a long time, made us drink medicine, and almost ate us at Fangorn forest."

Legolas flinched, moving past me, dropping wood down onto the ground. 'A'maelamin..."

Somehow that word made me want to vanish into the darkness with Legolas and ...just hold him. Be held. I gritted my teeth softly. No point in being weak now. I had to get stronger again. This wasn't over by a long shot. "The men on horses saved Pippin's life. Our lives. But I lost them in the forest."

"They are now safe." Gandalf squeezed my arm.

"I know." I met his eyes. "I ... hit my head. I remembered a lot. But it's hard to hang onto, like a dream, it slips in and out of my head. I'm not even sure what I'm remembering and what's ..."

"Of your own life?" Gandalf probably knew what I was getting at.

"No." I shrugged helplessly. "Not that. I saw ...other things. Things I think Saruman wanted to know. To stop us."

Gandalf nodded slowly. I felt Legolas and Aragorn's gaze on me, Gimli in the forest, and shifted on the ground slowly, uncomfortable with the attention. "I don't know what's real and what's not though, or what order it comes in, it's a confusing mess."

"But you remember something. Maybe the rest will come in time." Gandalf's voice was reassuring and I breathed out slowly as he stood up. "Now, sit, and grow strong. Real sleep will heal you."

I nodded, flopping down, too tired to be of help. Too tired to care about being helpless. When I opened my eyes, there was a fire, and there was a warm body sitting behind me. Legolas was pressing something against the cuts, my tunic peeled back, his fingers grazing over each wound that I'd gotten.

I yawned, twisting onto my back, staring up at him in the darkness. Gimli was snoring. Aragorn and Gandalf stood, some distance away on the edge of the hill. We were alone.

"How are you feeling?" I muttered, reaching up, stroking his face slowly. His face. I liked it. I ran my thumb across it, fingers grazing his ears, and Legolas shuddered over me, pleasure flooding his face. Ooh. So the Elf liked it when I touched him there.

"I should ask you that." Legolas kissed my palm, reaching up to grasp it in his hand, pressing his forehead to it. For a moment, he let his own guard down, let the vulnerable 'worried lover' side show. He looked exhausted, stressed, even upset, and his eyes burnt with that intense affection.

"I feel good." It was true. I felt good now. Aching, sure, but... I breathed out, shut my eyes, and a smile traced my lips. "I missed you. Have a good run? When do you rest?"

"I will rest soon." Legolas reassured me, reaching down to stroke my face, a faint smile appearing through the exhaustion. "Here."

He offered me lembas. I yawned and sat up slowly.

Then I remembered. Boromir was dead. Dead. Dead... I swallowed, tense, shutting my eyes. Oh fuck.

"Boromir is grievously injured, Wenduin." Legolas' words exploded in my chest, relief. "The Lady Galadriel sent Haldir for him. They had his horn and his ruined clothing sent over the waterfall with the arrows. A funeral for a man that would probably die but... may not die." He stared up, suddenly, eyes growing distant. "But when we speak of him we must always speak of him as if he has died."

She did? Then, did she know? "How did she know? Is he dying?"

"He is living yet, and may live for many years more, for my people have healing that no other race posses. But to the world, Boromir of Gondor is dead, and will remain dead as long as the Lady Galadriel needs him to be."

So Boromir was alive? Relief flooded me and I smiled weakly. Oh thank fucking god. Or something. And she'd known. How had she known? But then, I shouldn't have asked. Magic elf visions or something. I hoped I'd see her again to thank her.

The Lady of Light knows many things..." Legolas replied, shifting closer, lips teasing mine with a chase kiss. I shuddered, grasped his head, and pulled him for a better one, one I could taste, feel, remember. When we parted, his face was flushed, and his smile had increased. But it faded as he stared at me. "You should rest."

I should rest? I grasped his head again, hands gently cupping it, shifting closer, kissing him hard. He was right. This stuff was really good at curing stress.

Legolas gently pushed me back, staring at me. "I feared... Boromir said you had been..."

"Shot?"

Legolas nodded, reaching up to touch my shoulder where he must have found the still tender wound, frowning. "He believed you were dead."

"You too?"

He nodded, the haunted look in his face a moment, and then blinked, reaching quickly for his pocket. "Yes. But ... the hobbits. I feared for them. I could not grieve. Then I found this."

This? Legolas held it out, the silver-green leaf glinting in the firelight, his fingers trembling around it. He offered it, holding it up, and I lowered my head, letting him slip it around my neck.

I reached up, touching his face, our foreheads connecting as we both sighed out softly. Legolas murmured things against my lips, Elvish, things that made my chest expand with warmth, with affection, even with love... and I kissed him, over and over, hands stroking his face.

Aragorn flopped down close.

"Sleep, both of you. Gandalf is keeping watch." He shifted back, shutting his eyes. "There is time for that later."

Legolas laughed softly, a rare sound, as I quickly separated from him. I lay back down, Legolas resting close by, and slipped into an easy relaxed sleep.

By the time morning had come, I felt incredible, there was no other word for it. Compared to the last few days? It was like being reborn, though I'd really had no experience with that, like I'd just ...shed the wounds and grown new skin. My wounds were already healing, pain fading, and the comfort of friends and my lover was more than enough to spur me onto the horse's back behind Aragorn once more. Rohan! Action! Let's go!

"You must be feeling better." Aragorn commented, over his shoulder to me, smiling as he lifted the reins in one hand.

We rode for some time, up the slopes, my bum aching, but I refused to care. Why should I care? I held onto Aragorn, gazing around, knees hanging onto the horses' warm flank.

As we came over a slope, we finally saw what I had been waiting for. Gandalf called, " Edoras, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is over thrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong." He ran his eyes over us. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

Fair enough. I really didn't expect to find welcome here.

We rode hard, up the slope, for the city on the hill, and slowed as we entered the city. People stared at us, pale faces, drawn faces, people stressed, scared and afraid. Even of me, I realised, even though I was clearly a woman.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli muttered, as he stared around, and I had to agree.

We rode up as far as we could, and when we reached the stairs, we dismounted and headed up where guards waited for us.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Grayhame by order of Grima Wormtongue." The man looked kind of apologetic about it, about as enthusiastic about the order as he would eating a worm, but he waited, and Gandalf met our eyes.

I didn't have a weapon. Whatever had happened to sword... it was gone now. But the others did, and I watched, as they offered all their weapons.

"Your staff." The man glanced at it.

"Oh, no. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" Gandalf was doing a pretty good job of 'feeble old man'. Legolas and I met eyes over his head, and I moved to stand beside him, Legolas taking his free arm. He 'helped' him inside as we were led to the King.

Grima. I stared at him, as we made our way slowly down the hall, this creepy man sitting on the arm of the King. Not just that though. Around us, men were following, men that gave me the creeps, their eyes boring into us.

They were waiting to attack. I tried to ignore them.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late Théoden King." Gandalf's voice, feeble just moments earlier, seemed to boom around the hall. I gazed around it, at the incredible carvings, making a mental note to really look later.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

My eyes fell ahead to where a feeble old man sat, bent on a throne, a dark haired man with sallow skin sitting almost on his arm. Grima. The King Theodan.

"A just question my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lots spell I name him, ill news is an ill guest." Grima had stood, ignoring us, his eyes fixed on Gandalf alone. Fine by me. I just looked at the man and wanted to bathe...

Gandalf snapped, " Be silent. Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed

through fire and death to bandy crude words with a witless worm." He shoved the staff in Grima's face, who recoiled as if burn.

"His staff. I told you to take the wizards staff!"

The men rushed for us, and I was shoved to Gandalf's back, as the men did the punching. I narrowed my eyes as one rushes for me, clearly hoping I'd be easy pray, and I slammed my knee into his groin. Worked great. He went down with a groan, Aragorn snorting softly, as Gandalf advanced on the king.

"Théoden son of Thengel. Too long have you sat in the shadows. "

"I would stay still if I were you." I spun around to see Gimli, foot on Grima's throat, axe over his head. Good old Gimli.

"Harken to me. I release you from this spell." Gandalf paused, going quiet, waiting...

It wouldn't work. I knew it. We watched as Theoden laughed, this creepy dry laugh, that echoed around the hall, sending chills up my spine. It was Saruman. I knew that. And I felt afraid, suddenly, because I knew he was looking for me too. I shifted to the side, out of his line of vision, Legolas glancing at me.

"Hahahahaahaha. Hahahahahahah. You have no power here Gandalf the Grey."

Gandalf flung his grey cloak off, light pouring off him, and Theoden screamed as if burnt. Gandalf advanced on him. "I will draw you Saruman as poison is drawn from a wound."

He slammed against his throne, someone in white rushing past me, Aragorn grabbing her. Eowyn.

"Wait." Aragorn said softly. She stared at him like he was crazy.

"If I go, Théoden dies." 'Saruman' growled. For a second I believed it, Theodan's body was taunt on the throne, his face drained of blood, as if he was seconds from having a heart attack.

"You could not kill me, you will not kill him." Gandalf clearly thought otherwise, his voice rising, staff at Theodan's taunt body.

" Rohan is mine." The words, growled, from the lips of a man I was sure was about to ...

"Be gone." Gandalf almost stabbed his staff into the King, shoving him back.

Eowyn slipped out of Aragorn's grasp and ran for him, as Theodan almost fell forward, holding him up.

And them, suddenly, he was ...growing younger. White hair faded, white eyes faded, hair grew shorter somehow, blue eyes and skin flushed with life. With warmth. An older man, in his forties or fifties, but a healthy man. I gawked openly at it. This was magic. This was seriously magic and I'd just seen it happen.

"I know your face. Éowyn. Éowyn." Theodan stared up to Gandalf, disbelief on his face, blinking slowly. Eowyn stared back at us as well, her face white, dampness glistening in the dark hall. Theodan breathed, "Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again my friend." Gandalf was relaxing, leaning once more on his staff, his back to us.

The doors opened behind us, I glanced back, people coming in. Guards. His own people. There were people crowding in, witnessing this miracle, their King coming back to life. Slowly, he stood, as weary as an old man, but his body was gaining strength, his spine straightening, his complexion healthy once more.

He stared ahead, as if he was seeing something beyond us, saying softly, "Dark have been my dreams of late." Theodan stared at his hands, as if he had only just seen them, his fingers trembling.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword."

As soon as Gandalf had suggested it, a guard stepped forward, holding it out.

Theodan grasped it, slowly pulling it out, his arm shaking with the effort. Slowly, at first, but energy returned to his arm. To his body. And he held it up, staring at it, his arm becoming steady, his gaze finally becoming focused.

Then he looked at Grima, at us, at his people crowding his hall. Yep. Theodan was back. And he was pissed off.

He charged, suddenly, grabbing Grima by the collar, dragging him with strength that would have been impossible, throwing him bodily at the guards.

"Take him outside." He growled, voice raised, and they dragged out, Theodan going after them.

We hurried after them, pushing through the crowd, Grima cowering at Theodan's feet.

"I've only ever served you my lord."

As Grima pleaded, Theodan moved slowly down the stairs, every step heavy, his eyes fixed on Grima, sword still tight in his hand.

Yeah, him and Saruman.

"Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast." Theodan's voice rung out, a growl that echoed, bringing more to the steps to his hall, as Grima crawled backwards on his behind. Gandalf was close behind.

"Send me not from your sight."

Worst choice of words. Aragorn ran, suddenly, past us as Theodan raised his sword, ready to smash him to pieces right then and there.

Or he would have, if Aragorn hadn't grabbed his arm, and saved Grima's life. "No, my lord. No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

I didn't see it but... I knew what had happened. Grima spat at Aragorn, and charged down the steps, shouting, "Get out of my way!" He'd head straight for Saruman, of course. Where else?

"Hail Théoden King!" A voice rang out, echoing in the wind, and slowly everyone started to kneel. I did too, before I realised neither Legolas, Gimli or Eowyn was, but I was already down, and ... Aragorn was kneeling.

Theodan didn't seem to see us. He stared ahead, suddenly, his face clouding over. I didn't hear his words but ... I knew what he'd just realised.

His son wasn't here.

I stood slowly, Eowyn turning to move down to her uncle's side, and finally she saw me. Our eyes met and her mouth opened, faint surprise on her face, really seeing me properly. A woman.

"You're injured." She said softly, staring at me. "You came with Gandalf. Are you one of our people?"

I suddenly got what she assumed. Eowyn thought I'd been attacked and they'd offered me clothing. I had no swords, no weapons, and I had bruises fading all over my face, so ...But before I could answer, Theodan was moving past, his footsteps heavy once more.

He knew his son was dead. And Eowyn stared sideways, to one of the older women, ordering quickly, "Get this woman clothing and food, I will talk with her later," before she was hurrying after Theodan, past us, before I could correct her.

I suddenly didn't want to go. Here, I was just a woman, and here, I was weak. Fuck that. Hadn't I already done some good kick ass stuff? The idea of putting on a dress around Elves wasn't so bad- they at least knew I wasn't totally helpless, that I was with this Fellowship. But here?

Legolas reached out to touch my arm, a contact that he concealed, and he said softly, "We all will need food and water now."

The woman glanced up at him, this elf, open awe at what she was staring at. Then the dwarf. She nodded, her mouth slightly open, "Ye... yes, My ...lord. Elf. Yes. Of course. But my Lady should-"

"We need to talk first." Aragorn called , coming up the stairs and around to us, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Would you wait for her inside?"

She nodded, flustered, and headed inside. Gandalf joined us briefly, his face clouded now. "Theodan will be burying Théodred before the sun has fallen. Preparations are starting. Hama will provide us with water to bathe and food. The Lady Eowyn has already offered help for you?" He met my eyes and I nodded. Gandalf smiled sadly, reaching out, squeezing my hand. "Then let us meet in an hour. Your role is not forgotten. Do not fear that we'll forget you here."

I smiled weakly and nodded. He opened his arm to the door, gesturing to me, and I went inside.

The Lady showed me a small room, pouring heated water for me into a basin, as shameless bout my body as the Elves had been. She was, however, much more open with her gawking, staring at the various wounds that were knitting and healing in my flesh.

"Were you attacked, M'lady?"

"Yeah." I reached out for the water. The wind cut into the hall now, the sun was gone, and it was getting cold. "It's cold, isn't it?"

"When this wind blows, M'lady, it is cold. Soon, it will snow." She was taking my clothing and I reached out for it, to her surprise, as she headed for a fire. "Do you want to keep these?"

"Well, um. They were a gift. I'd like to."

Surprise was obvious on her face. Why would a woman want to keep 'men's clothing'? I smiled weakly and tried to make something up. "I mean, they were my brother's, so..."

"Of course." Understanding dawned on her face, suddenly, and she folded them up carefully. "We do not waste cloth either. I will have it repaired for you. One day, your son may wear it, and you can tell him of his uncle."

I smiled weakly, nodding, deciding I couldn't be bothered arguing about this. While she was gone I bathed hurriedly, the warm water cooling, soaping my skin, getting the last of the grime and smell off it. When she returned, she had a black dress, and I sighed. Okay. Deal with it. I was in her land and this was what women wore.

"Your brother waits for you." She informed me, as she helped me into a under dress, lacing up the back. I had expected a plain thing, really, but ...it was silk. I gawked at it. My brother? Who said they were my brother?

"He does?"

She nodded, pulling the black silk and wool over my head, the heavy dress weighing me down. I watched as she tied the sleeves on, the back, and grasped my hair, twisting it back, some kind of thing over my forehead. The woman hesitated, as she stared at the leaf necklace, touching it softly. "This is very beautiful."

"It was a gift." I smiled weakly, self-concious, and slipped it down the front of the dress. "Not appropriate for this though."

"For you, it would be." She responded softly, reaching up to do up the dress so that it covered my throat, tying a small bow. She seemed to remember herself. "But you are being waited for. Here are the shoes."

I let her pull them on, small soft things that wouldn't last an hour where we'd walked, and then followed her out to meet my 'brother'.

Aragorn nodded, a smile on his face, reaching out to take my hand. "Sister." I blinked at him, as he drew me near, whispering, "So that you may stay close to us. The truth is harder for the men of this land to believe. You will wait beside Eowyn."

Okay, sure, whatever. I smiled weakly, letting him loop his arm through mine, Legolas glancing up from outside. He flashed me a quick smile, which was as good as a kiss right now, before he turned. I let the lady lead me away down the slope, the crowds gathered on the hills, right down to the back of a crowd of women across the path from Eowyn, who's gaze was fixed on the ground.

There was movement at the top of the hill, far up, and I watched as the funeral procession slowly weaved down through the crowds, along the road, with only the wind as sound. There was the sound of soft sobbing, people behind me crying into their sleeves, grief filling the air, filling my chest, and I felt myself as devastated as they were. The King's only son. Dead.

The closer they came, the more Eowyn's body shook with supressed grief, her face pale, not looking at them, but aware of their presence as it wound closer down the hill. It was only when he was in front of her, this man who must have been amazing in life, that I saw her body shudder, and dampness start to leak down her face.

A voice rang out, so sudden, so powerful, that for a moment I didn't realise it was her singing. The voice echoed around the hills, the city, her hands shaking. A language that was powerful. Head lowered, and my hair whipping around in the wind, I felt Legolas move close, literally felt him come to stand behind me, a palm coming to rest on my back, his head lowered.

No one spoke. No speeches. He was carried in, Theodan standing there, face blank of everything, all his grief hidden... but he was trembling. And then the doors were shut and crowds of people moved away, quiet, heads down.

I let Aragorn lead me back up, Legolas just inches away, Gimli trudging beside us. When we could, we found the hall and the tables, and I followed, not caring how people stared. This must have been why Aragorn had said I was his 'sister'. So that I could freely be alone with them.

"I guess women don't usually hang out with men..." I tried, tried to smile, but I couldn't do it.

"No." Aragorn agreed, sitting down heavily, staring at his hands. "A waste."

"A life cut short." Legolas agreed quietly. He stood beside Aragorn, hand on his shoulder, staring out the window. "Just a child."

Théodred had looked like he was around my age, but I didn't argue, Legolas was right. He was virtually a teenager still. Too young to die. Too young to fight. If I had kids, if I had them here, there was no fucking way I'd let them be warriors at that age. Warriors were Boromir's age, in their late thirties, real men who'd had time to grow into their bodies.

"A waste." Gimli said quietly, staring ahead. "Just a boy. A youth. These fights are always a waste."

"How long do dwarfs live, Gimli?" I asked softly.

The women from before moved closer, just as Gimli opened his mouth to respond, lowering bowls of hot soup and bread onto the table for us, drinks of ale beside it. Rohan ale. I had this memory of a time, that seemed like months ago now, of being in Rivendel and offered Rohan drink. How far we'd come, in so many levels, how long we'd travelled. Suffered. Been hurt.

"For three hundred years, give or take a decade." Gimli answered softly and reached for one of the plates as he stood. He glanced up to the women, who were retreating, "Thank you. Come on. Let's eat. I'm starving."

We ate together, standing and sitting around the little table in the tiny room, quiet and unable to speak, the cold wind cutting through the hall with every powerful gust.

"We have survived." Aragorn said, finally, staring up. He lowered his drink. "And we will overcome. We will win this war. Let us drink to Théodred, to a death worthy of a King, and regain our own strength."

I raised my mug of the ale stuff, hadn't even tried it yet, and we toasted quietly to the man now in the tomb. I drank slowly, just a mouthful, and reached out to take a bowl of the soup and to eat it. It was only a small amount, and gone so quickly, but I felt satisfied and relaxed as the warmth flooded my cold insides.

There was noise outside, Gandalf's voice, and Aragorn lowered his bowl as well. The women came to clear it, everything except for Gimli's mug of ale, which she refilled on his request. Legolas moved to lean against the pillar, as Gandalf entered, carrying a little girl in his arms. Another followed, a boy, exhausted and stumbling, face covered in dirt.

"Food, quickly!" Eowyn's voice rang out. I hadn't even seen her there, hadn't heard her nearby, but she rushed past us, taking the little girl from Gandalf and helping her to sit down. She turned, the Lady in all sense, ordering, "As much as we have remaining. And heat the water. Prepare clothing for them. Find my old nurse. They can sleep in the Hall."

"Yes, M'lady."

Eowyn knelt beside them, reaching up to stroke the girl's hair, smiling a gentle smile, her face still white and strained. "You two have travelled far."

"From ..." Some word I couldn't pronounce, the boy answered, some place. He was trembling, shaking, and the second hot food was in front of him, he grasped it and ate like a starving child. It was gone in seconds and Eowyn lifted it up.

"Bring him more. Both of them." She ordered. Then she saw us, saw no food, and Eowyn's face darkened. "Did I not order them to be brought food?"

"We brought soup, M'lady..."

"Bring them bread, cheese, meats. Pipes. Warm drink. We owe them a debt of gratitude and they have come a long way." She moved towards the children again, turning, and spoke softly with them.

More food was brought out to us as she got the story out of the children. Wild men, they'd said, and Orcs. They'd burnt down their village and their mother had sent them ahead on the horse.

"Do you think she is okay, M'lady?" The boy asked, quietly, staring up. He seemed to already know the answer. Orc? Wild men? When Eowyn didn't answer, he stared back down at his plate, and started to eat again, slowly.

"Sit, Wenduin." Aragorn said softly to me, pulling at me. "Beside me. We are guests, and we accept their hospitality."

I blinked at him and at the food. I'd forgotten about it. Slowly, I went around the pillar, Legolas and my arm brushing, and sat back down beside Aragorn. He filled a plate and offered it to me.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded, as I started to eat again. Theodan came back in, Gandalf beside him, and he sat heavily in the throne, waving away a woman as she hurried to bring him food.

"I am not hungry." He said softly. "Are they well?"

"They are exhausted. Bring a blanket." Eowyn's eyes went over the girl, who was trembling, and she knelt down to sit beside her, arm over her. "Their village has been destroyed. Their mother sent them here on her horse. Bravely, they have made it, but their village..."

Their village. Their family. Maybe their mother. I knew it. The King's face, already taunt with grief, was hidden as he lowered his head, staring at his legs. He'd been under a spell and his people were being attacked.

"They had no warning, they were unarmed." Eowyn stood up, slowly. She seemed to find purpose, strength, the earlier grief gone. "Now the wild men are moving through

the westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot, and tree."

I stared at her, the dream-like memory coming up, and realised. Eowyn was a warrior too. She wanted to hunt them down. Defend her people. This must have frustrated her. She was offered a blanket and took it, eyes on her uncle, her steady gaze not wavering even as he hid his face in his hand.

" Where is mamma?"

"Shh." Eowyn turned back to the girl, kneeling, draping the blanket over her back.

"This is but a taste of the terror Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven mad by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on." Gandalf moved closer, determined, "Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King." Aragorn lowered his pipe, not having even lit it yet, more or less chewing on the end.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us. I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war." Theodan stood, his shoulders squaring, breathing in.

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

The look on Theodan's face, as he stared at Aragorn, made me flinch. He said, with new-found strength, probably strength he'd wished he'd had with Grima, "When I last looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

Gimli burped, in front of me, and Aragorn nudged him under the table as he wiped his face with his beard.

Gandalf stood, slowly. "Then what is the King's decision?"

Theodan stood there a long time, gazing at us, then to the children, as Eowyn sat with them. He breathed in slowly, and called, "Hamas."

Hamas came in from the front.

"Yes, my King?"

"We leave for Helm's deep. All are to leave the city. No one is to remain behind." Theodan turned, heading for a door in the side of the hall, leaving us. "We leave as soon as we are ready."

"Yes, my King." Hamas nodded his head, thumping his chest, and turned.

Eowyn turned to the children, quiet, and said softly, "Come, finish the meal, and we will give you fresh clothing."

"I'm tired." The girl said, quietly, not as a whining child, but as a child who had gotten far too past what they could do. "I don't want to go."

Eowyn smiled a sad smile. "Then you can sleep on the back of my wagon. I will make room for you both. Come, this is my maid, and she has hot water and clothing waiting. I will not be far."

"Yes, M'lady." The boy spoke up, standing, and gently grasped his sister's shoulder. "Freya, she has to get ready too, and we have to wash in case we see mother. Mamma always says we have to greet the sun with a clean face and a smile."

"Okay." Freya stood up slowly, grasping her brother's hand, and they followed the maid out of the Hall.

We waited for Gimli to finish eating, as he polished off the last of the cheese and meat, before Gandalf spoke.

"Come." Gandalf said, softly, gesturing. "Walk with me, all of you."

We followed him out. No one spoke, not until we heard Hamas shouting orders to the people, his voice echoing down the slopes of the city. I kept stumbling on the dress, on the hem, it was hard to walk fast in.

"By order of the King, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm's

Deep. Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what provisions you need."

"Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight." Gimli exclaimed, growling softly, his breath smelling of ale and cheese as we followed Gandalf down to the stable.

"They do what their King orders them." Gandalf responded, and added, "And so will we."

We entered the stables, Gimli apparently not satisfied, "Who will defend them if not their King?"

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has

saved them in the past."

Helm's deep was going to be a disaster. I opened my mouth, wanting to say it, wanting to say what I knew. What I'd seen in that place. Instead, I strode after the others, Legolas grasping my arm and Gimli's arm, drawing us back. Aragorn and Gandalf moved ahead, speaking, and Legolas said softly, "We do as Aragorn asks."

"Agreed." Gimli said, deflating slightly.

"Yeah, agreed." I breathed out, slowly. What else could we do? I knew some of us survived Helm's deep, right? "So we should get ready to go."

"We should, yes." Gimli agreed. He clasped my arm, nodding.

Gandalf moved past, at a gallop, a white blur of wizard and horse, and we jumped out of his way.

"Come, let us find you ...something easier to travel in." Legolas smiled softly. "And a bow."

"Weapons are probably a good idea." I agreed, ignoring the stare of a man who'd walked past us, following Legolas back out. "Give them back their dress."

Legolas nodded. Gimli moved to my other side, the three of us heading towards the Hall. When I saw the women, I called, "I need my clothing back."

"M'lady?" She stared at me, surprised, and held something up. A dress. A plain dress. Eowyn moved past, in a plain dress of her own, her hair loose again. "This is-"

Something brushed my hair, suddenly, and Legolas said softly as he made my lack of ears obvious. "This is an Elf maiden, and she is as much a warrior as I am."

That was an overstatement big time, but she blinked, staring at my ears, and then at me. Her jaw dropped and suddenly she was bowing, almost, nodding, nearly dropping the dress. "Y... yes, M'lady. Forgive me. I did not... with your brother... did not think of such a thing. Your clothing is ...most is still damaged, but I can find you clothing to replace some?"

"Please." I smiled weakly. Oh boy. Now she thought I was an Elf too. I'd have to kick Legolas later for this. "Sorry for the trouble."

"No trouble, M'lady, none." She moved away, hesitated, and asked, "Would you have a dress or two as well?" It was like she couldn't quite accept that me, even as an 'elf woman', would spend all my time in leggings and tunic like a man. When I nodded, I actually saw relief, something she DID understand. "Yes, my Lady."

"You change." Legolas said, his hand on my shoulder. "I'll find you a bow suitable for you."

I nodded, he squeezed my shoulder, leaning forward just a moment, before he turned.

Gimli shifted. "I will be in the armoury. This needs sharpening." He held up his axe, which did look a bit worse for wear, before he turned and headed off too.

I was re-dressed. Like I suspected, she couldn't quite handle it, and the tunic... was feminine. Longer. It covered my hips completely, went to mid-thigh, and I suspected she probably was thinking about making it longer somehow. The leggings turned out to be real pants, not leggings, and not tight, but baggy.

"You wear these underneath." She explained, as she held up brown leggings, tighter looking things. "They provide warmth. Though I would not be surprised if an Elf has no worry of that."

"Better safe than sorry, right?" I took both, and tugged the leggings on, then the black pants, the smooth fabric sliding over the tighter ones easily. Insulation. Good idea. These people must have really been used to the cold. I stared down at my chest and... "Where is the binding thing?"

"Do you need it? Your curves are-" She hesitated. "You use a bow." I nodded and she sighed, reaching for something. "Then you will need to flatten it, yes. It is a shame."

But at least she didn't argue when I tugged the tunic on over the shirt and the bindings, or the belt, and when I glanced up, Legolas was standing there, watching us, arms crossed. He almost looked amused as I tugged on boots, struggling a little, and I wanted to throw a boot at his smug face. Prince Leggy had custom made boots. Nice for him. I had what I could get.

She hadn't noticed him yet, but when he moved, she jumped, and bowed.

"It's all right." He said softly, to her. "We need to talk. Can you leave us for a while?"

"I will be helping pack food." She nodded, backing off, and shut the door behind us.

Legolas moved behind her, locking it, and gazed at me, across the small space, his mask fading. Indifference fading. The face he used with humans... it just vanished, melted away, and instead, there it was. The affection, desire, the look of a man who'd thought his lover had died, who'd grieved and...

He crossed the room in two strides, grasped me, and pushed me against the wall, kissing hard, hands grasping my arms. "A'maelamin..."

"Legolas..." I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck, and felt him lift me up, wrap my legs around his waist, his mouth teasing my neck.

"I thought you were dead, A'maelamin ..." Legolas shook at the word 'dead', trembling, and he stared down at me. "I could not feel you."

"I wasn't near you, of course you couldn't..." I tried to joke, smiling weakly, as he cupped my face gently. I leaned up to kiss him, a soft kiss at first, our lips grazing against each other, his taste filling my head and sending warmth deep into my body.

"Let me ...have you." He whispered, against my lips. "It would not be as long as I like but-" A hand slid up the tunic, under the binding, and I inhaled, shutting my eyes. Not rough, like Boromir's hand, not even close. "-I would have you now, rather than wait any longer. If you desire me."

I desired him. I felt it, my body ached for it, and yet, I felt ...something else too, fear, crawling in my belly, fear. I nodded, seeing his face fill with relief, and tried to ignore the fear of this. Why should I be afraid of sex? With him?

Legolas knelt, slowly, drawing down my pants and leggings, his eyes still locked in mine. As he moved, he kissed my leg slowly, each bit, fingers tracing down the healing scrapes and cuts. "I will not be rough."

"All right." I smiled, forcing myself to relax, to forget. I wanted him. I really did, I wanted to hold him, to be held, and to be connected with him again, the safest place I'd found. "I'll be gentle too."

"Don't be." Legolas stood, lifting a leg around his waist, his body grazing mine as he captured my lips. He nipped my lip gently, tugging, as he slid his own clothing out of his way. "What you do, I can hide..."

With a groan, I felt him push into me, and a wave of panic flooded me, my eyes shutting, one leg around his waist, the other on the ground. His arms wrapped around me, kissing gently, and he waited.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded, smiling weakly, trembling. It scared me. Having sex scared me.

"Open your eyes." Legolas urged, softly, and when I opened my eyes, only then did he move his body down and up, grinding against me, heat flooding my hips. "Do not shut them. It is me."

Me. It is me. Did he know? Had Boromir told him? I nodded, eyes fixed in his grey ones, focusing on him. It was Legolas. Leggy man. My lover. He kissed me, shutting his eyes, and groaned softly against my lips, as our bodies ground against each other, his pleasure echoed in his face with every motion, his arms holding me, and the more I saw him, the more I watched him, the safer I felt.

I was safe. It was okay. He would stop if I asked him to.

When I whispered faster, Legolas obeyed, and I finally could get lost in it, in our bodies, ignoring the horse men and women outside, the war we were about to enter again, the battle to come, all I cared about was Legolas, his body, his fast breathing, and how human... how mortal... he looked, when he gasped against my neck, his release and pleasure unhidden from me. Something tipped in me, beautiful glorious pleasure, that went straight up into my body, into my womb, and I cried out against his neck, buried in his hair, trembling as the release cast out any last remaining anxiety or fear.

"Amin mela lle, Wenduin..."

I understood. How, I had no fucking idea, but I knew what he'd just said, and I gaped at him. He loved me? Legolas hesitated, staring up at me as he lowered my leg slowly, "Do you understand what I am telling you?"

I nodded and his face lit up, this beautiful open joy, joy that overflowed into me somehow, right through my shock. He knelt, sliding my leggings on and the pants, before he re-dressed himself, every last bit of tension long gone from his face now.

I wanted to tell him I wasn't an Elf. I wanted to remind him. But I couldn't do it. He seemed so pleased, so relieved that I had understood, that I just said quietly, "You..."

"You can say it when it feels right, Wenduin. We have no rush." Legolas stroked his hand along my side, face buried in my neck, and added, "I feared you had been hurt by them."

"They couldn't." But Boromir had. I wanted to say it. The words were right there, in my mouth, and yet I couldn't say it. If Legolas knew, he didn't bring it up, and if he didn't... how could I tell him that now? Would he think I was a whore, still enjoying sex? My heart twisted painfully, guilt, regret and ...

Ohfuck.

"Legolas?"

"Mm?"

"I ..." I smiled, weakly, shutting my eyes. "I ... you know. Amin mela ... um, lee."

He laughed, lifting me up, and hugged me close. The lock in the door opened beside us, the door opened, and Eowyn stared at us too, at our red sweaty faces, swollen lips, my hair all over the place again. If she knew what we'd just done, she didn't comment, and she didn't seem that surprised to see us alone.

"We leave. Wenduin, I have a horse for you to ride, so that you do not have to share with your brother." She came in, as Legolas lowered me down, and held something out. "A sword."

"Thanks." I took it, admiring it, and she nodded before she turned out, her mind already ahead of her body.

Legolas moved to the door and lifted up a small bow, holding it out, a quiver in his other hand. "Here."

"Back to work?"

He nodded, moving forward to strap the arrows to my back, fingers running through my hair affectionately. Before I knew it, Legolas was tying it back, ignoring my ears or lack there of, eyes still burning with affection that hadn't even faded when Eowyn came in. As I strapped the sword to my belt and put it back on, Legolas stood back, and his affection faded under determination. "We have a duty to our friends."

"To our friends." I agreed, reaching to take the necklace out, fingering it. And our lovers.


	8. The preparation for battle

The two of us stayed there a while, not talking, just ... I wasn't sure what to call it. Legolas seemed to be watching me, even though he had started to repair and make new arrows, I felt his attention glued on me. Every time I moved suddenly, or went to say something, his eyes would snap to me.

Finally I needed fresh air.

"I'm going outside." I informed him.

Legolas nodded, standing, agreeing without saying a word. Apparently he was too.

When we came out, Eowyn had a sword to Aragorn's neck, and Legolas crossed his arms across his chest as we watched.

"She is angry." He said, softly, glancing sideways at me.

"Yeah." I agreed. "Aragorn can cope. Let's find this horse of mine and that dwarf friend of yours."

"Of mine?" Another smile cracked through his mask, Legolas rolling my words over in his head, and he nodded. "Let us find that friend of ours."

Her eyes, haunted, stared at Aragorn as he strode towards the door ahead of us. And then at me, her eyes drifting over my sword, the bow, the same haunted look. She craved my freedom.

The horses were ready, I noticed, lined up, restless with excitement. People were crowding around, or waiting lower down, some people already on horses.

I stared at my horse for a very long time, even after Legolas and Gimli had mounted, at this big thick bodied brown creature, one blue eye and one brown eye watching me, half the mare's face white.

"Come, we ride!"

The call came closeby. People jumped onto horseback.

It suddenly occurred to me... I didn't know if I knew how to ride.

_Uh oh_.

As if reading my mind, Legolas shifted closer, asking softly, "Have you ridden on your own?"

"I don't know." I muttered. He frowned and then followed me to the horse. Oh boy. I would fall off in front of all the greatest riders in this Middle Earth. The horse stared at me, and I stared at it, this suddenly giant warm brown beast, a long face bearing down on me, eyes still boring into mine. Uh oh.

Aragorn moved beside me. To my embarrassment, he aided me up, but as he did, he spoke loudly, "I have informed them of your injuries, Wenduin, and this horse will bear you gently until your injuries have recovered." He winked, a hidden motion of his eye, as he helped me in. Aragorn leaned up. "I did not know if you were able to ride. This horse will follow calmly."

"Thanks." I smiled weakly, shifting on the saddle, as I slid my feet into the metal things. He gave the reins to me and I held them. Nothing was coming to me. No amazing horse skills to go with those amazing archery skills. If I had done this before I didn't feel it.

A great many people, I noticed, were walking and I felt bad as we rode away at a slow pace. Why me? I had to assume this was because they thought I was Aragorn's sister, which maybe made me special because he was the heir to Gondor, or maybe because he'd over-described how injured I was.

But the truth was, I was still physically exhausted, and though I'd slept and ate well, the last four days with the Uruk Hai and the orcs still lingered in my bones, in my body, and I ached from head to foot. I also ached now in another place but this was a good one, one that reminded me of Legolas, and I didn't really mind that one.

We rode for some time, and walked, the slow procession of people trailing beside us, behind us, in front. It was such a slow journey. I saw elderly people, stumbling, exhausted already, children, women carrying babies, and guilt at riding only increased.

"I can let others ride, if this is a long trip, I don't have to ride all the way..." I called to Eowyn, as she walked alongside, and to my surprise I actually saw her smile.

She reached up to take my hand. "Thank you. There are many who may need to take your offer here. Are your injuries bothering you?"

"A little..." My bum ached too, a little, I wasn't used to the saddle. "But walking might be a nice change."

Legolas on her other side, still riding, met my eyes and said, "I will scout ahead. Gimli may need a smaller horse without me so this one may be of use too."

"Thank you..." Eowyn's face was melting slightly. We paused, others passing as the three of us dismounted. She called to someone behind her, on a horse that looked far too small for him. "Come, you may ride one of these horses, and let Gimli ride the pony."

Gimli moved onto the smaller animal, much better suited, as Legolas jogged ahead, his bow out. I stretched my arms, watching a woman with a child helped onto the back.

"I will lead your horse, Gimli." Eowyn took the reins, and met my eyes. "Will you walk with us or scout?"

"One Elf is enough for that." I replied as I started to walk again. "If you don't mind my company."

"No. I have ...questions I would ask of you." She responded, softly, and then to Gimli, "I have not a lot of understanding about the world of Elf or Dwarf. I have only seen few Elven women and Dwarf women, none... "

"You think there are none?" Gimli offered, as he hoisted his axe into a better position, shifting on the back of the little horse.

Eowyn smiled, nodding, relaxing as we strode across the dry grass. "It crossed my mind, I confess, for I have never heard of a dwarf woman even seen. I had heard a curious rumour though-"

"That Dwarf are born out of stone?" Gimli laughed. He shifted on the back of the horse, clearly delighted that Eowyn was interested in him rather than Elves, his axe resting on his shoulder. "It's true, you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men."

Aragorn, behind us, whispered, "It's the beards," and we both saw him gesture to his chin.

Eowyn gestured at him to shh, glancing over her shoulder, and met my eyes, mirroring my smile a little more, relaxing.

"This, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women…" Gimli threw his arms out, clearly encouraged by her growing smile, gesturing as he added enthusiastically, "And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

Eowyn laughed, as Gimli did, and I laughed too, watching her relax, meeting Aragorn and Gimli's faces, her guard falling by the second.

"... which is, of course, ridiculous." Gimli dropped his arms, a bit too enthusiastic, and he scared the poor little horse. It suddenly took off, as fast as it could go, probably thinking he'd kicked it... and Gimli fell sideways just a few metres from us, right off the poor startled thing. Eowyn rushed after him, holding her skirt, and I saw she too was wearing pants under her dress.

"It's all right. Nobody panic!" Gimli struggled to get up, Eowyn tugging him up, "That was deliberate. It was deliberate."

I moved backwards, to Aragorn's side, as Eowyn brushed him off, her smile meeting mine and then she gazed forward to where Aragorn had continued to watch, his own lips curled up in amusement on his own horse.

" I haven't seen my niece smile for a long time. She was a girl when they brought her father back dead. Cut down by Orcs." Theoden's voice was heavy with pain and regret as he spoke, beside us, his eyes meeting Aragorn and my eyes. So it was okay for me to be here. Good. I still wasn't sure about what was the right thing to do around a King. He didn't seem to care, his eyes going to his niece, Aragorn's smile fading as well. "She watched her mother succumb to grief. Then she was left alone, to tend her king in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father."

Aragorn and Eowyn held each other's gaze, for a long time, before she turned and started to walk alongside Gimli, who had muttered something about taking a break and walking as well.

After some time, I had to admit I was getting tired, and Aragorn surprised me as he suddenly jumped off his horse.

"I need to stretch my legs. Here." He hoisted me up before I could protest, beside Theoden, who more or less ignored me. "Ride a while and I will walk along side."

"We will stop for the night soon." Theodan said, glancing at me and Aragorn, his eyes boring into us. "I see a likeness between the two of you." He did? "But I hear you are also Elf, Wenduin..."

"We have the same mother." Aragorn said softly, reaching up to grasp my hand, squeezing it. "But our fathers are very different."

The same mother. He was sharing his mother with me. Somehow, I felt like this was huge, this was important, a compliment, that Aragorn had to really like me to offer this background. He returned his grasp on the reins, striding forward, eyes ahead. I nodded weakly.

"She is not a Lady of Gondor then?" Theoden regarded me, no disgust, nothing, just mild interest. "Trained in the way of the Elf instead?"

"She is free to be what she desires." Aragorn responded, glancing back at me, reaching up to stroke the horse's neck. "My mother's gift to her, and now mine. Her future is free for her to choose, men or elf, and I stand by her as a brother as long as I live."

I stared at him as he smiled up at me, warm, cheeks flushing. Why did I care about his approval so much? I didn't know. It just felt good for Aragorn to offer it. Eowyn, some feet to our left, stared at me once more, that haunted look returning to her face.

His words still echoed in my head as we stopped for camp, and I sat there, watching Eowyn trying to cook. I felt bad for her. She didn't seem to know how to do it... and I knew she was going to try and feed Aragorn. The last thing we needed was for her and him to get food poisoning.

"Here, let me help..." I offered, shifting closer, as she stared at the pieces of meat and vegetable she'd been given, her face frowning somewhat.

"I would like to do this alone. Please." Eowyn shook her head. She seemed determined. "But I would appreciate the company as it cooks."

Oh. I got it suddenly and decided against any further insisting of help. This was clearly a _very important task._ "This is for Aragorn?"

She flinched, staring up at me, cheeks reddening somewhat. So innocent, I realised, and so afraid of being so vulnerable. Woops. Shouldn't have done that. I added, quickly, "Sorry, I just … guessed."

"Yes, it is." Eowyn carefully hung the pot above the fire and, unsure, started to drop things into the water. It wasn't going to be good but I decided to just ...let her. "Elves have insight beyond that of us, I heard. Would you cook for the Lord Legolas?"

Now it was my turn to flinch. I grinned sheepishly as she met my gaze with a 'Sure, your turn to deny' expression. _Lord Legolas_. Oh boy, that was a funny mouthful to say.

"Well, he doesn't eat much. So no." I added, "And sometimes they do. But I am not Elf..."

"Not all Elf, no. Your mother was his mother, and human." Eowyn didn't really get what I was saying and I sighed, deciding to just let it drop. Half human was better than 'full elf'. She stirred the soup, as it started to warm on the coals, watching it. "Did you grow up with him?"

"He's older than me." I replied. Then, "But I don't remember much. I struck my head and lost most of my memories a few months ago."

She stared up at me and sat back, slowly. "Everything?"

"Well, I remember how to do things, if I knew them before, but I don't remember _what_ I can do. And I think I've forgotten some things I can do. If that makes sense."

"Such as riding." I nodded, understanding dawning in her face, Eowyn breathing out. "I wondered why a sister of Aragorn with elf blood would not be comfortable on a horse. You have forgotten how to ride."

"I don't remember how to ride." That was a better explanation than other things. I added, quickly, "But I love horses."

"Why you do not speak in Elvish..." She continued, jumping, and stirred quickly. "It sticks to the bottom. Is that normal? No, do not answer. I do not need help."

"I don't remember that either." I agreed. Legolas passed by, our eyes meeting, his step faltering for a fraction of a second. He gestured to me and then continued on, slower. "I think I should find some food, if this is for Aragorn."

"You may share it, of course!" Eowyn blinked at me. "I do not mind. But I would cook it..." She saw me staring at Legolas, turning, and then she laughed, a soft laugh. "I was right then. Your lover?"

I went red and she sat back down. "Go then, but you will not find a moment alone here."

"I think he just wants to check that everything is healing." I responded, cheeks red, seeing that Legolas was carrying a pouch of healing herbs. "So we're ready to fight. All of _that_ can wait."

"It must be wonderful to have so many years." Eowyn said softly. "To not feel rushed. Go. We will talk later. I think this is ready."

I seriously doubted it but I decided to let her go for it. She headed off, carrying the little pot and bowls, and I followed after Legolas.

I was right of course, it had nothing to do with lover stuff, he made me sit down as he re-dressed all the cuts with a thin paste of herb and water.

"As it dries, it will fall off, but leave it." Legolas ran his hand along my thigh, the cuts, frowning at the bruises still yellowed. "It will aid the healing. Why do you heal so slow?"

"I'm not an Elf?" I wasn't joking. He knew it.

"You have no memories of being a human either." Legolas responded. "You may not be one as I am, but ..."

He was still convinced I was part Elf. I stared at him as he slid my tunic over my shoulder, pressing the paste into either side where the arrow had torn through my body, fingers gentle.

"What if I am?"

He didn't answer. Legolas just continued to treat my body. What if I wasn't anything Elf, at all? Was this why he liked me? What if I was pure human? Elves had this thing, I'd noticed, this thing against us. But he liked Aragorn. He liked Gimli. What abut me? "What if I'm human?"

"Then we need not tell anyone. We will keep it between ourselves until I can talk with my father." Legolas responded softly. He frowned. "I do not believe it though. I do not accept you are mortal."

_What_? Before I could argue, he'd stood up, and headed off without a backward glance.

I did not sleep well that night. Gimli snored. I lay there, eyes shut, during the few precious dark hours Theodan had allowed everyone for a rest before we continued. Legolas didn't want to accept I was mortal?

I probably slept, the night didn't seem that long, but the look on his face when he'd said that haunted me. He'd looked lost for a moment, tired, and really old. Legolas couldn't accept that I might live like every other human, just a moment of his life? Did he fear me growing old? Or dying? Or was I to never change?

I didn't know. The words, the conflict, and his genuine hope... because that was what it was, _hope_, that I was Elf, or part Elf, or something that would _last_...

I didn't know what to tell him.

I walked quietly the next day, rode, Legolas scouting ahead. He'd avoided me last night and this morning. He'd avoided me and I knew it was on purpose. I felt it. Somehow, whatever I'd tried to say, it'd upset him. I walked close to Gimli, slowly, the warm sun bearing down on us, feeling the familiar ache of blisters once more. It didn't bother me that much any more.

"You feeling alright, Lass?" Gimli asked, beside me, using his axe once more as a walking stick.

"Yeah." I smiled weakly down at him. "I didn't sleep well. Twigs, stones, not much fun."

"I miss a warm bed myself." Gimli added, "Don't tell the Elf."

I nodded, smiling, breathing out slowly.

"Cold winds in these lands. Underground, it is warm, safe." Gimli breathed out too, as if he could picture it. "Under the earth, where no cold wind blows, where the walls glitter with fire and gem. You need not much blanket or covers in my father's Hall, each room is warm enough without."

"The stars glitter."

"Aye, they do. I pretend they are the worms that glow in my home, sometimes, when I miss it." Gimli's voice dropped softer. "Many a night as a boy I would wake and make shapes from them. The moving stars of my chambers. Never the same image."

I gazed up, seeing Legolas on a ridge ahead, and swallowed as two horses rode past him. I wasn't sure if it was okay or not for me to warn Gimli but...

That guy, that nice guard Hama or whatever his name was, he was about to die. I knew it. I hated that I knew it. But … I grasped my horse, suddenly, managing to hoist myself onto the back.

"Gonna check something out." I informed Gimli, smiling, and before he could answer, kicked forward and raced across the hill, ignoring the shouts. Up the slope we went, me and this horse, and I hoped like hell I wasn't riding it to its death. What the fuck was I doing? Riding TO a warg? Hey, I didn't have to get close, did I? I could ...um. Shoot it.

Legolas called something as I rode past, and I called, "Warg!" without knowing if he actually heard me or not. I froze, as we came over the ridge, seeing that the two horses ahead were starting to panic. They couldn't see what I could from this short distance. A warg and rider right on top of the cliff above them.

" Still, horsey, still..." I whispered, dragging my bow out, trying to aim. The horse lurched sideways, as Legolas rushed past, and the arrow went flying... right into the Orc's arm, as it and the warg pounced onto the horses below, Legolas with his bow already out.

Hama's scream echoed, as one of the warg advanced on him, chilling me to the bone. I kicked my horse, as it jolted forward, trying to aim, charging at the warg, right past Legolas.

The warg, about to tear off the man's head, turned and saw me and my horse charging it. We nearly trampled poor Hama as we charged it, making it jump sideways, and the other rider, the Rohan man, charged at it, sword out. Hama ducked behind us, grasping his sword, face pale as a ghost. He'd nearly _become_ one.

Legolas charged, bow out, and with a single arrow he killed the warg, throwing the orc to one side. The orc screamed, as the blonde elf ran straight at him, silver knife glinting, my horse half-rearing and nearly throwing me off. Hama grabbed the reins just in time as Legolas killed the orc.

"A scout!" Legolas shouted back to Aragorn, meeting my eyes, as he threw the corpse down.

"Thank you..." Hamas breathed beside me.

Aragorn only took thirty seconds to get the women and children screaming, we heard it over the hill, and then suddenly there was growling. I moved up, then... I couldn't fight from the back of a horse. Hama could.

I jumped down, stumbling, "Get on the horse, you're trained to do that kind of fighting," and headed for Legolas. Stupid? Maybe. Hamas didn't have time to tell me- I was beside Legolas, bow out, and we aimed as we saw warg and riders explode over the crest of the hill. Hama mounted my horse. I headed for the highest part of the hill and decided to keep my distance.

Behind us, horses thundered, the ground shook.

"To that side!" Legolas shouted, pointing, and I moved, just seconds from being trampled, just in time to see Legolas do some magic elf thing onto the horse in front of Gimli.

The warg and horses hit each other, two waves of swords, blades, teeth, blood flying, bodies falling on both sides, and I aimed, legs shaking, firing with every last inch of skill I had. This was what I could do. I could fire arrows. So I did.

The funny thing was, they barely even noticed me, the riders, they were charging past with barely a glance at me. Maybe as the 'sister of Aragorn and daughter of an Elf', it wasn't surprising to them that I was all bowed up and ready to stick arrows in things. The warg, on the other hand, did, and the second they were riderless, I found myself charged at by one, teeth bared, growl, this massive thing that was a cross between a bear, a boar and a wolf, so heavy that the ground shook with every paw dug into it.

I nearly peed myself, stepping back, arrow in string, and just feet from being trampled and torn apart, the arrow flew into its eye, deep, and suddenly it was dead, skidding, knocking me over the ridge some metres as the lifeless body came to a halt. Heavy lifeless body.

A hand grabbed at me, someone dragging me up, Hama calling, "Up!". Lucky I saved this guy. He smiled, gratitude all over his face, blood pouring down his head, and …

Something crashed into him, teeth, the smile caught on his face as his neck was torn apart, blood splattering me. He didn't even see it, the warg, he hit the ground, smile still on his face, gratitude. For me. For extending his life a good three minutes.

The warg twisted, teeth dripping with his blood, and even though I didn't know the man, I felt grief twist, and pain, and slashed at it as it came at me, the body of another behind me, ramming my sword up through the roof of its mouth and through its head, ignoring the teeth that grazed my arm, tiny scrapes... but that was it.

Hama was dead. I hadn't been able to save him. He'd died, no matter what. I stared at him, trembling, and when I turned to try and help, I saw that the battle was already more or less won. Or had I been standing there in shock? Didn't know. Someone rode past, a man, hot on the tail of a warg that was fleeing.

I turned slowly, heading up the hill, nearly ploughed down by an orc that was running for it. Sword. Orc stomach. Didn't even try- he'd just run right into me while looking backwards. I stared at him as he collapsed, black blood bubbling out, over my arm and hand.

"Aragorn?" Gimli's shout caught my attention. "Wenduin?"

I headed over, jogging with energy I didn't know I had, and Gimli glanced back at me, relieved. "There you are."

Legolas glanced behind, at my arm, and then back to the cliff, making his way up it slowly. He hadn't been worried? Good, I guessed.

"Are you injured badly, Wenduin?" Theodan's call came, as he rode past, pulling his horse to a fast stop beside me in a little explosion of dirt.

"No, just a scratch." I replied, teeth almost chattering, more in shock about Hama than myself. "But I couldn't save Hama..."

A hand closed on my shoulder, Theodan's face grim as he dismounted, his hand squeezing my shoulder. "Come. Let us find your brother."

We headed up the cliff slowly to Legolas and Gimli.

I heard an orc laugh, "...off the cliff."

Theodan's face darkened, and he moved away, up the hill, towards the cliff edge.

Legolas met my eyes, his eyes narrowed, and then suddenly he was grasping the orc's clothing, fury flooding his face. Aragorn. Dead? He couldn't cope with the idea. It wasn't just me he wanted around. He wanted everyone he cared about... I suddenly understood. He was ancient and would loose us long before it was his time.

"You lie!" He hissed, as the orc just laughed, dying in his hands. Legolas dropped him and saw it as I did. A glint in the orc's hand.

The Evening star. Or something. Even star. The glittery necklace

I moved up to stand next to Gimli, as he stared at it in his hand, this tiny delicate thing as beautifully crafted as the leaf he'd given me. He couldn't even look at me, grief flooded his face, and he rushed up to the cliff's edge, the two of us hurrying after him.

I knew Aragorn was alive. Didn't I?

We stood beside Theodan, staring down, and I wondered if I was wrong about this. It was a very long way, there were a lot of rocks, and ...that river looked very shallow. Fast, but shallow.

How the hell could he survive that?

"Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."

Legolas flinched, staring at Theoden like he was mad, his body tensing. This was clearly not something you did as an Elf.

Theodan rested his hand on Legolas, speaking softer. "Come." His eyes went to me, and he added, his other hand reaching out to grasp mine. I didn't see a King then. I just saw a grieving father, a man, trying to offer others comfort. I suddenly really respected this man. "Grieving must wait."

I stared at him as he moved away, Hama's dead face still in my head, Legolas frozen beside me. Neither of us moved, not until Gimli did, and we followed him down the hill, Legolas brushing his arm against mine for a few minutes, his body trembling.

My horse. I stared at it, as it was led towards me, the red blood still against the light brown fur. I took the reins, a wounded man on it, and numbly followed the other soldiers down the hill and across a long flat plain. The other women and children were already far ahead of us, a good half hour ahead, Eowyn probably leading them.

As we drew closer, the man on my horse was helped onto the back of another, and I was helped up.

"Come, we ride for Helm's deep." Theodan called. He clearly meant me as well. I moved after the others, gripping onto the saddle, my horse happily charging after the horses in front of us, just behind Legolas.

We moved faster, hearing a shout of '_Make way for the king. Make way for Théoden. Make way for the king_!" from ahead as we rode into the stone walls of Helm's Deep. Crowds parted, pressing against the walls as the horses rushed up the stone steps, hooves clattering.

Eowyn was waiting when we arrived, her face pale, and she stared at us. "So few... so few of you have returned."

Legolas dismounted, moving away into the shadows when Gimli was safely down, and I hurriedly followed him. He found a darker corner that had a little gap opening out to the air, sheltered by pillars, and stood there, trembling, his eyes shut and pain coursing across his face. When I touched his arm, he flinched, but didn't withdraw, his hand came up to grasp mine and hold it hard as he stared out across the plains through the stone gap.

"Legolas?"

He didn't look at me, just drew me closer, an arm closing over my shoulder. No one could see us, I checked, but I suspected this time he wouldn't have cared. He leaned against me, face white, trembling.

"We left him." He breathed, shutting his eyes, muttering something in Elvish. Pain coursed across his face. "I do not understand."

"I couldn't save him. Hama. I tried. I saw his death and stopped it, and then he just died a different way." I leaned against him. It hurt to know that. Legolas tightened his arm, leaning against me, his chin coming to rest on my head. "Aragorn can't be..."

"If he isn't, we abandoned him. He lies there now, injured, _dying_."

"Legolas..." I hesitated, quiet, not sure what to say. "He's ...clever. Smart. He's a ranger. He knows how to... if he's alive-" I still wasn't sure if I was right or not... "-then... he'll manage. You know he's good at surviving."

Legolas stared down at his hand. In it was the necklace. He fingered it, before he slid it into his pocket, breathing out slowly. But he didn't seem convinced when he responded. "He is."

Gimli came over, his arm wrapping around my waist, leaning against the wall in front of Legolas. He spoke softly. "Theodan is going to draw all forces behind the wall."

"I heard. All the women and children into the caves." Legolas said quietly. His eyes went to me, staring at me suddenly, as if he was waiting for me to say something too.

When I didn't, he frowned, and stared at the weapon on my hip.

"You are also going in the caves, Wenduin." Legolas said, finally, and even from me his face was guarded now.

_What_!

Before I could respond, before I could react to this statement, he was gone, striding off, expression clouded. I went to charge after him and remind him ... I didn't know, about Moria, about the orcs, about anything where I'd stabbed a sharp metal object around... tell him it was my choice, not his, but Gimli grasped my arm and shook his head.

"No, lass, let him have his mind to himself now."

"But-" I gaped at Legolas back as he ran, feet light, down the ramp and vanished into the heavy wooden doors of the keep. It wasn't like he'd even asked. Even suggested. Nope. Legolas had more or less ordered me.

"Leave him." Gimli said softly, hand in mine, his course skin against my soft, as we watched Legolas wander off, face completely masked, eyes somewhere else."Let us help them carry the supplies into the cave."

"Do you think that?" Did Gimli think I should be there too? I stared at Gimli, who shrugged, responding, "Far as I'm concerned, you have experience now and can decide. I would not judge ye for either choice."

"I hadn't... decided yet." I admitted. "I just wanted to talk to him." Talk to him. I nodded, numb, and turned to follow him. There was nothing I could say to Legolas, nothing I could think of, and so I turned away, feeling sick to my stomach.

Gimli first tended to my wounds, quiet, and when I didn't speak, he asked, "Is there something you need to talk about?"

"I ...don't know."

"Say it, lass. I am a friend and you will not focus until it is said." Gimli's hands were soft, his own face haunted, his eyes on the scrapes.

"I tried to save Hama. I saw ...I saw his death. I see them sometimes. Not you, or anyone now, but..." I shut my eyes, telling him, telling him what I'd seen. What I'd tried to do. And how I couldn't change it. Gimli didn't speak, he stared at me, but ...he was quiet, calm, watching me, with no judgement on his face.

"We can sometimes change our lives or the lives of others." Gimli said softly. "Sometimes. But when we cannot, we must accept it."

"It's easier said than done..."

"Aye. But we try."

"Do you see things?" Gimli's words made me hesitate as he wrapped a light cloth over the cut and sat back up. I watched him carefully.

"Sometimes dwarves see things, yes. It isn't just Elves who have that gift. We view it as a gift. Some of us are able to change our lives. Some of us cannot. But men, dwarves and even Elves can go mad with the grief when they cannot change it. Sometimes it has to be left alone." Gimli spoke quietly, his eyes down. "To answer your question, aye. I have seen things. But nothing that I have changed. You say you changed one thing. Think of it as a gift, girl, that one moment."

A gift. Boromir's life had been a gift, granted to both of us, something I had changed. I nodded, breathing in slowly, and Gimli stood.

"Now, we must do our best. Help these people. Aragorn would expect no less if he were-" He trailed off, eyes shut, and I nodded, standing. "We will defend them."

"We will." I agreed.

We carried things in, side by side, trying to help. There seemed like an endless amount of supplies but from Eowyn's face, it was clear it wasn't enough, not for everyone. She smiled a tense smile at me, but her face was white, and I swore tears were just cracking. Aragorn. She'd liked him. Who could blame her?

"Are you in the caves with us?" She asked, tense, as we paused to accept water. I stared at her and Eowyn added, impatient, "The women and children are ordered to remain in the caves. But you are free, you are not bound by our King." There was a flash of pain, frustration, she gritted her teeth as she glanced back. "While I am bound to serve his will."

"And protect them."

She nodded, vaguely, eyes distant. "If it comes to that."

"Eowyn, I-"

"If I had your freedom, I would stand beside the man I loved. I would have fought beside him as equals and defended my people. But we have a duty to do here." Eowyn said quietly. She turned, moving past me, heading out again. "Come, there is more."

I sighed, shutting my eyes, aware that she was right. I was lucky to be so free with choice. I doubted the King would order me into the caves, not with the support of Legolas and Gimli, I was free to stand beside them. That was a gift. Wasn't it? A chance she would have killed to have with the warg. But I knew what was coming and I was already terrified.

Legolas returned that night, as we were crawling into a corner, sitting down nearby. He smiled a tense smile at me, reaching out to touch my hand, before he re-focused on the dark hall. "Sleep. I will keep watch."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Gimli grunted, tugging the pillow under his head, groaning. "Horses!" He snorted, shifting one arm behind him, and I could guess he was probably rubbing one of the many horse related bruises.

I woke sometimes that night, occasionally startled by people moving backwards and forwards, but we were left alone. Food was brought to us, the hall warming as the fire was made hot, and we woke long enough to eat before falling back asleep. I asked, sleepily, why we were being left alone at one point.

"Theodan has ordered us to sleep tonight." Legolas responded, softly, the hood of his cloak over his head. He stared at his hands. "So sleep."

"You too?"

"I sleep in my own way tonight."

With his eyes open, I suspected, but I was too sleepy to ask.

The next morning, Legolas was better, his smile returned, his tension fading. He actually touched me, fingers tracing over my hair as I woke, and he said softly, "I believe you."

"Huh?" I mumbled, sleepily, reaching up to touch his hand. "Whattimeesit..."

"It is morning. Aragorn is still alive. I do not believe he could die so easily." Legolas smiled, gazing back, resting his head against the stone.

"Me either." I yawned, stretching, bare wrist meeting cold stone. "Cold morning."

Eowyn rushed past, in the same dress as earlier, calling, "Come on. We must get the last of it into the caves!"

Action woman was at it again. I scrambled out of bed, tugging on my boots, Legolas aiding wit another of his amused smiles.

"Shh, it was the best they had." I whispered, as he prodded the end of the boot, where I had a full two inches from my toes to the end, the middle of it slightly too narrow.

"I will find you better." Legolas informed me, standing, and breathed out slowly. "We will talk soon."

"Talk?"

"Soon. First, go help."

Helping was exhausting. I was surprised by it, but after the third trip down the hill to the bottom of the keep, I was panting, sweating, my body physically just trying to give up under me. I managed to hide it for a little while but it was impossible when we'd gotten halfway back up.

Gimli grabbed the bag of turnips off me, growling softly, "All right, enough. Lass, you are in need of rest after your ordeal. Stop and sit down for the day."

"Ordeal?" Eowyn froze, staring at me, and once again I knew she was staring at the various bruises and things. Fainter now, yes, but not gone. "What ordeal?"

"This young lass was, until no more than three days ago, the captive of Uruk Hai for four days." Gimli responded before I could tell him to be quiet. He added, with a trace of admiration, "And then not yesterday, killed two warg. Enough. Rest." He went to grab the other bag and I grasped it quickly. He frowned.

A hand grasped it, dragging out of my grip with surprising strength, and Eowyn frowned at me as well. There it was, also admiration, and I wanted to squash it down.

"It wasn't that big a deal. It was mostly just luck. If they had come at me at once I would be dead." I muttered. "And the Uruk Hai didn't really torment me. They just carried me around."

"Without food and with very little water, for four days."

"Three days, really, I barely did anything." I didn't want them to stare at me like I was some kind of hero. "I just hung off their back while they did all the running. For three days. Trying to rescue me. It's Gimli, Legolas and Ara-"

Eowyn turned away, suddenly, and Gimli flinched. Oh fuck. Yeah. They were sure he was dead. I said quieter, "I mean, they were awesome. They ran for three days and three nights without food, barely any water, and no rest. None."

"Awe...some. Awe, yes." Eowyn agreed softly. She smiled at Gimli. "Then perhaps, you should both take some rest this afternoon."

"Rest? I am a dwarf, I need no-"

"Then make sure she does." Eowyn said, quickly, clearly realising she'd made some kind of insulting error. She met my gaze as I opened my mouth, cutting me off, "There are more than enough women and men here willing to help. Two less pairs of hands will not matter now. Two less swords later may be the difference between life and death. Rest."

I sighed, shutting my eyes a moment, as her words sank in. She was convinced I'd be fighting. I still wasn't sure it was a good idea. Gimli spoke, "Then we will carry these last bags up to the caves and do as you ask, my lady."

"Thank you." She smiled, looking as weary as I felt. "I will ask us all to rest soon. We will need strength."

We followed her up, slowly, Eowyn finally showing some of her own weariness. But the second she passed her uncle, it faded, hidden, under the steely resolve she was trying to show.

Hooves clattered down below, as she went to check what had been brought up already, calling for a break for all workers. Gimli and I hurried to the edge. I already knew who it'd be.

Aragorn rode up, all full of energy, not bad for a guy who had fallen off a cliff, nearly drowned and had been half unconscious on a horse. Gimli growled, "I'm going to... kill... kill him!" and rushed off, shoving people aside, as Aragorn jumped off his horse. Now that he was closer, he was clearly not that well, blood, dirt plastered on him, hair greasy, clothing torn, an open wound still bleeding. More than one, I realised, as Gimli grabbed him.

"Where is he? Where is he? Get our of the way! I'm going to kill him! You are the luckiest, the canniest, and the most reckless man I ever knew." Gimli's voice broke and he grabbed him hard, hugging him. "Bless you laddie."

I moved past, the crowd parting for me, and hugged Aragorn hard, relieved. Okay. This was one moment I was glad my 'vision' had been correct. He cringed slightly, his arm coming up to wrap around me.

"Gimli, Wenduin, where is the king?" Aragorn met our eyes, hands on either one of our shoulders, adding softer, "And my pack of healing herbs?"

"Legolas has them." Gimli replied, nodding behind us towards the heavy doors, "He is where he has remained for many hours."

Aragorn nodded, patting our shoulder, and went to walk towards the door. But I grabbed him. I had to know. I had to know if the other part of my 'vision' had been right. He frowned slightly. "Wenduin?"

"Ten thousand?"

Gimli inhaled slowly, mouthing the words, eyes going from me to Aragorn.. Before he could ask, Aragorn held his finger to his mouth.

"Maybe more." He nodded, frown increasing, before he patted my shoulder. "Let us tell the king."

We headed after him, as he strode forward, only for a pretty blonde man to appear in his tracks. Legolas smiled, reaching out to grasp Aragorn's shoulder. "Le abdollen. You look terrible."

"I'll get the herbs." Gimli muttered, backing off, as Legolas reached into his pocket. "Wendy?"

I moved away too, as Legolas gave Aragorn that precious thing, leaving them alone. We hurried to where the small pile of our things waited, grabbing the herbs and cloth, and water, before heading after Aragorn into the hall.

If Theoden minded that I was in the hall with 'the men' he didn't say. His eyes were on Aragorn, wide, breathing in slowly. "-reat host, you say?"

I moved to Aragorn's side with the water and a cloth, as he spoke, and he slowly pulled the fabric out of my way so I could clean it as they spoke.

"All Isengard is emptied." Aragorn replied, cringing as Gimli pressed the herbal mix into his shoulder.

"How many?"

Aragorn met my eyes, a moment, before he answered, "Ten Thousand strong at least."

"Ten Thousand?" That had to be a lot in Middle Earth. Theoden stared away, slowly, the veins in his neck rising.

"It is an army bred for a single purpose: To destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

Legolas frowned, stepping closer to me, reaching out to take over the cleaning as I watched.

"Let them come!" Theoden growled, striding to the doors, face grim now. "Come, let us prepare."

We hurried after him, as did his close guards, as he strode for the gate into Helm's Deep. Gamling was right beside him, hurrying, as Theoden ordered, "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall."

"Yes, my Lord." Gamling responded, hurrying off, shouting orders as he went.

"We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping wall, or set foot inside the Hornburg!" Theoden strode outside and gazed up at the gates.

Gimli met my eyes and he frowned, leaning on his axe. "This is no rabble of mindless Orcs. These are Uruk-Hai. Their armour is thick and their shields broad."

"And they are smarter than orcs." I muttered, softly, and Gimli grunted in agreement. Nastier.

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep." Theoden strode inside, ahead of us, ignoring Gimli. But what? Run? Run where? To Gondor was the only answer I had. Where else would we go?

Aragorn grasped Gimli arm as we followed him inside, up the ramp, Theoden shouting orders, numbers for each post, names he wanted to be in charge of each area. Soldiers were hurrying, Gamling already far down below, shouting.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be resown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls we will outlast them." Theoden said, loudly, his voice echoing so loud that those below heard as well. His confidence was nice, really, but …

It was so much worse than that. I gritted my teeth as Aragorn spoke what we were all thinking.

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people, down to the last child."

Theoden grasped Aragorn's shirt, suddenly, dragging him close, hissing, "What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance." He let him go, stepping back, and turned around again.

"Send out riders, my lord. You must call for aid." Aragorn moved towards Theoden again.

"And who will come? Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead." As he spoke, his gaze burnt Legolas, Gimli, the targets of his frustration. How often had Rohan needed them, only to be alone? I didn't know.

"_Gondor_ will answer." Aragorn refused to give in. He believed it.

"Gondor?! Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell?! Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us?! Where was Gon–? No, my Lord Aragorn, we _are_ alone." Theoden breathed out, slowly, shutting his eyes, pain flashing across his face a moment. Hurt. He felt betrayed. I could see it in his face.

We watched him hurry in, Gamling rushing to his side, Aragorn sighing as he leaned against the stone wall. Legolas frowned and turned to me.

"We must speak." He said, sharp, and then, "Aragorn? Gimli? We must all speak."

This sounded pretty serious. We followed him into a quieter place, as people passed us, ignoring us.

Legolas turned, meeting Aragorn's eyes, and then stared at me a moment. He said something softly in Elvish.

"I agree. Wenduin." Aragorn spoke, softly, reaching out to me. "This time, you must go into the caves."

"What!" I blinked, staring at them both. "But..." I gaped at them both. Legolas had more or less gone behind my back for backup.

"You are exhausted."

"So are you!" I retorted, staring at Aragorn's exhausted face, "I've done good so far." Okay. I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. But I wanted the choice. "Let _me_ decide this."

"No. There are too many this time." Aragorn shook his head.

"You must wait in the caves." Legolas added. He reached out to touch me and I flinched, shoving him back. "Wenduin..."

"I said, no." I gritted my teeth, glaring at them both, and then spun onto Gimli. "You think so too? Even after all I've done and been through? Why do you three get to be here?"

Gimli opened his mouth, then held up his hands, backing off. "I said what I meant before. But ..."

"We're trained." Aragorn snapped. "I have sixty years of sword training. Legolas has over five hundred years as a warrior. You have less than two months."

I growled softly, shutting my eyes, frustrated. "This should be my choice."

Legolas said, quieter, "_Please_."

"Stay in the caves. For this time, stay back." Aragorn said softly. "There are too many this time. We would ask the same of the hobbits, were they here. We cannot protect your back during this, Wenduin, we must be able to concentrate."

" I could not do so if you were seconds from death for hours."

"It may take days. Weeks." Aragorn added. "As your friends, we ask you to stay out of this. This time."

I turned, leaving, before they could say any more, anger burning through me. Who did they think they were? I went for the armoury, teeth gritted, staring around for something. Better boots would be a good start. It was barely three minutes before Aragorn managed to tell someone.

I was in a smaller storeroom when I was found. Gamling, the King's personal Guard, sent to deal with me.

"I'm sorry." Gamling, apologetic, as he grasped my bow and took it away. "You cannot fight this one. Your brother has informed us that you are to be in the caves this time and we need all weapons."

"The cave." Fury and hurt flooded through my chest. Oh fuck this. This wasn't cool. I scowled, trembling. Did I want to fight? I didn't know yet. I _hadn't decided yet_. This _wasn't_ their choice.

"Yes, my lady." He smiled weakly, taking the sword also, and the belt. "And... we would need your armour."

My armour? I stared down at the tunic, as he did, and the wrist guards, Gamling reluctantly patting my shoulder. "I would not ask but we are... desperate. The more we have, the better."

It wasn't his fault, I knew that, he was just trying to arm his people. I reached up, unstrapping it slowly, hearing him breath out in relief as I didn't argue. It wasn't his fault. Legolas and Aragorn had started this. I knew, even though I hadn't before, that I wanted to be fighting too. Thousands of Uruk Hai? Yeah, I knew that, and I knew what it would be like. I could see it in my head.

As I stood there, staring down, I saw it. Rain. People dying. A great explosion that more or less screwed Helm's deep. I had to be there. Teeth gritted, I hissed, "I should be there too. One less person is not a good idea..."

Gamling shook his head slowly, as I glared at him. He said quietly, "The lady Eowyn said much the same thing. This is not something I can help. You both must be there between Helm's Deep and the helpless in the cave. If there are too many..." He trailed off, eyes distant, fear flickering across his face once more. He breathed in slowly, his body rising, shoulders squaring. "We have need of you both, yes, but not out here."

Not out here.

I sighed and nodded. I handed him the wrist guards and tugged the leather tunic off, my shirt more than enough, handing it to him too. Gamling smiled sadly.

"The caves will not be closed off until dark, my lady, they are rushing as much in as they can. You do not need to rush into them now."

"Where are they?"

"There is a small heavy door at the back of the Hall, inside the Mountain. You will be shown. Here." He gave me something, a thin linen dress, "I asked the Lady Eowyn. You may wear this."

A dress. Because I was a women. I suddenly really hated dresses. But I nodded, taking it, trying to remind myself yet again that this wasn't _his_ fault. Guys around here clearly weren't comfortable with the idea of a woman running around in a shirt and pants.

"The extra layer will replace the warmth this would have offered." Gamling added, as he folded the tunic up over his arm, moving away to stand in front of the door. "The caves can be cold at night, I am told. You may change, I will not turn around."

Oh. I suddenly felt bad. He was just trying to make sure I was warm. While his back was turned.

I tugged it over my head, quickly, the dark brown fabric sliding easily, fitting easily over the thinner shirt. He was right. It was an instant layer of extra warmth. The only laces were around my wrists, and I tied them up as I told him, "Okay, I'm done."

Gamling nodded to me, as he turned a fraction, and then he headed out, rushing back into the panic outside. I stood there, breathing in and out slowly, shutting my eyes.

As the day went on, I avoided Aragorn and Legolas, kind of humiliated. Yeah, okay, I was a woman. But never in my life had I felt so … unequal with men as I did right now. Never. It made me so angry, as I watched kids, kids!, given weapons. It wasn't just pride. It was frustration. They had all these kids and elderly men, but had ignored the women, women would have as much of a chance, if not more, than half the boys and old men.

I had to talk to Aragorn though. I had seen an explosion, I had seen how this battle would go, and I knew I had to tell him. As angry as I was with them and with the stubborn pigheaded men here, I didn't want them to die, and fear was just barely contained under the anger I was using to keep myself from freaking out.

As it grew dark, as someone mentioned closing the caves soon, I sighed out slowly and finally stood up to find Aragorn.

"Have you seen my brother?" I asked, quiet. I didn't even have to tell him who I meant, this random soldier I didn't know, he glanced at my lack of ears and knew exactly who I was. Fantastic. I was famous.

"In the armoury, my lady."

I headed for it, gritting my teeth, trying to rehearse this. I was pissed off. I wasn't helpless. I had survived a bunch of stuff. No... I couldn't say that. I just had to tell him the basics. 'Big explosion. Look out for a Uruk Hai with a giant metal ball in his arms and a torch, don't let him reach the wall.' Right. If I could change something in this whole mess, surely that wouldn't matter too much.

As I headed for it, I saw Aragorn, flopping down heavily, head in his hand. He stared up as I came up to him, grief and frustration on his face, crushing any anger I was about to vomit all over him.

"Wenduin."

"Hi." I sat down, quietly, as he grasped my hand and stared ahead. Maybe Aragorn was scared too. "Still want me in the cave?"

Aragorn breathed out slowly, staring out into the darkening evening, across the plains. "I would have you safe, yes, as I would have us all."

We watched the soldiers rush past, shouting, the warmth of the sunrise fading into a dark grey night, the clouds creeping over the sky. Aragorn stared at his feet, mood heavy, breathing out slowly.

"There's going to be something. During the fight." I said quietly.

"What?"

I described the orc and the metal ball. As Aragorn listened, his attention on me, I added, "It'll break the wall down. The stone. Like a firework but... well, it's big enough to tear apart that wall down there. If you can kill him..."

"I will look for him." Aragorn responded softly. "I will tell Legolas."

"Thanks." I was glad I didn't have to ask him to do that. "Not in the mood to talk to him."

"He would have you return with him to Mirkwood, Wenduin. Death is not something he has learnt to accept yet." Aragorn said softly. "Elves are frustrated by the faster world of men. They have long kept apart, their world and ours, because of it."

"Yeah." I agreed quietly, staring up. "We're on fast forward and they're on slow motion."

Aragorn nodded, staring back down. He probably didn't get what I'd said, exactly, but he must have understood the 'fast and slow' concept.

"Sit with me a while, Wenduin." He said finally. "As I think."

It grew dark as we sat there, we accepted a few slices of bread, watching as men, boys, and elderly men came out with weapons and armour, half the time not fitting properly, or old, or broken. A boy stopped close by the fire near us, his face pale and haunted as he stared at the old blade, uncertain.

"Give me your sword."

The boy came to us, slowly, as if he wasn't sure if Aragorn was talking to him. Aragorn took it slowly, inspecting it, every little nick, scratch, holding it.

"What is your name?"

"Haleth, son of Háma, my lord." His name made me jump, a tiny bit, which he hadn't noticed. Hamas' son. Guilt dogged at me. I didn't know this. I didn't remember this. I stared at him, as he stared at Aragorn, almost desperate. "The men are saying we will not live out the night. They say that it is hopeless."

Aragorn didn't answer straight away. He stood, slowly, and swept the blade through the air, "This is a good sword." He slid it back into Haleth's hand, a hand on his shoulder as he bent down to speak. **"** Haleth, son of Háma…there is always hope."

I smiled weakly, as Haleth glanced at me, nodding.

"Come." Aragorn pulled me to my feet.

I followed him into the armoury, as he dressed, helping him with the buckles on his wrist guards, heart starting to thud harder. This was serious.

"Brave, Wenduin."

"I should-" I hesitated, as I stared at another wrist guard. At a dagger. At Aragorn's sword. I wanted to fight.

"No."

Yeah, yeah. I sighed, stepping back, Aragorn finishing off his dressing on his own.

Aragorn grasped for his sword, only for it to be handed to him, Legolas magically appearing as he usually did. This time, I didn't feel joy at the sight of him, I stared at the armour he wore and just felt... let down. Really let down.

"We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

"Ú-moe edaved, Legolas."

I stood back a bit as they put their hands on their shoulders, Gimli, moving past me, struggling with a chain mail shirt.

"We had time, I'd get this adjusted." He managed to get it down, the entire thing dangling on the ground, and Gimli grunted. "It's a little tight across the chest."

Legolas smiled at Gimli, as Gimli tried to get his arms down, and then met my eyes. I couldn't look at him. I turned away, heading for the door, leaving the three of them. I felt left out and hurt. It was stupid. I was here too.

Breathing slowly, I shut my eyes, and tried to ready myself to go into the cave. Like a good girl. Then later I'd shove the elf into the doghouse and leave him there.

A horn echoed, suddenly, all around the keep.

"That is no Orc horn." Legolas jumped, moving past me in a hurry, his attention somewhere else. Okay, okay, he and I both knew that this was an Elf horn and that was awesome, but it kind of irked me that Legolas didn't seem to get how much deep shit he was in right now with me.

"Find the King!" A shout, excitement rippling throughout the keep, feet pounding on the stone outside.

"Come on." Aragorn grasped my arm and we ran out too, heading for the front gate, his energy lifting.

We rushed down, I grabbed the skirt so I didn't trip, following close after Aragorn. Over a hundred Elves. Elves?

I froze at the top of the stairs, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli rushing down ahead of me, staring at them. Elves. Elves at Helm's Deep. Somehow, I knew this wasn't meant to happen, and yet here it was.

Or was it?

It was these two conflicting things in my head. Somehow, I knew Elves weren't supposed to be here, that this was 'humans only'. A victory of men alone. But I could SEE Elves in Helm's deep. I knew of two separate possibilities at this moment. And here they were. Choosing one.

Haldir stepped forward and I felt dizzy suddenly, as he stood there, once again seeing what I had seen in Lothlorien. His death. He wasn't meant to come here, no Elf was besides Legolas, and yet they had come. And now they would all die. Every single last one of them.

I suddenly wanted to vomit.

They spoke further down, the group of them there, as I leaned against the edge of the wall, legs weak. The Elves turned, suddenly, to King Theoden and Aragorn. I couldn't look at it. At these Elves who would die. It made me feel sick.

I turned, heading back up the stairs, thoughts of … I didn't know, sneaking into this fight dressed as a man or something. Would that change it? Who knew.

Something barrelled into me from behind, grabbing me, lifting me up. Panic flooded through me as arms lifted me up, hugging me hard.

"Wenduin!" Boromir's voice, sending a thrill of anxiety and relief, a funny mix, echoing as he spun me around. "I thought you were dead!"

I stared at him as he stood, his face in a wide smile. Alive. He really was alive then. I'd changed one thing, saved one life. I tried to smile, as he released me, tried to relax. He must have noticed how tense I'd gotten because I saw that flash of regret and hesitation on his face. Guilt. It was still tearing him up. Somehow, now that I knew he was alive, I... was glad to see it. Glad to see he was still ...guilty. Was that wrong of me? I didn't know.

Legolas caught my attention, glancing back up at both of us, his stare only for a few seconds but it felt like a very long time. I tried to re-focus on Boromir as he stood back, staring at me head to toe, hand still on my arm.

Boromir was under an elven hood, half hidden, but obvious to me. He looked terrible. Clean, yes, but exhausted, pale, and stiff, the edge of a white bandage still viable underneath the dark red shirt. No armour. It was the first time I'd really seen Boromir without it. And when he breathed, he tensed, as if the movement of his lungs caused him pain. And he had shaved off his beard. What a bizarre sight... he looked as clean faced as the elves did.

"Are you not preparing for battle, Wenduin? Where is your armour?" He asked, as he met my eyes, glancing back over his shoulder at the other.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." I responded. "I-"

I didn't get a chance to explain though. Theodan was coming back up, Aragorn beside him, and Aragorn said softly to us, "Let us speak of this in a quieter space."

Boromir shut his mouth, as if he was about to say something, and said softly, "Yes, agreed."

"Legolas, speak to Haldir of our plans." Aragorn called, glancing back at Legolas, who nodded sharply and turned back to his kin.

In the keep, Theodan led us into a quieter place, Gamling hurrying to join us. Only there did Boromir lower his hood, and then only briefly, reignition flashing across Theodan's face.

"Boromir of Gondor, son of Denethor." He reached out, clasping Boromir's arm. "Your face is one I am glad to see."

"As is yours, Theodan King." Boromir responded. "But I am not here to fight." Disappointment flashed across Theodan's face, Boromir hurriedly continuing, "I am wounded still and can not lift a sword. Yet. The Elves tell me it will not be long. But I came to offer different assistance, if you so allowed it. I have long defended my people against Orc and now faced their new creature, Uruk Hai. If you would allow it, I would stand beside you, and offer what wisdom I have."

"Would you command men, under my name, from my side as long as this battle continues?" Theodan asked softly.

"I would, my lord." Boromir's eyes grazed over Aragorn, warmth in his face, and bowed his head. "As I would serve my own king, I will serve you faithfully, until every last creature is dead at the walls."

So, wait. He was injured, and he was still allowed to be out here? Okay, not fighting, but still...

"But I must not be known as Boromir." Boromir's words surprised Theodan, he blinked at him. "For I am dead, for now, and my father must think so."

"It is a shame. By your name alone my men would be encouraged. " Theodan nodded, patting his shoulder, squeezing it and releasing it. "It will be as you say. I must return to the walls. We will speak further soon."

Gamling hesitated, as Theodan strode off, his eyes meeting mine. "You must go to the caves soon, Lady Wenduin. We will seal them off." He hurried after his king.

"The caves?" Boromir asked, raising his hood again.

"Wenduin will be in the caves for this." Aragorn explained softly. When he reached out to pat my shoulder I flinched and drew away. "So that we may be focused."

Focused. Once, Boromir had said something like that, accused me of being too badly trained to be of any use except as a warrior. But to my disbelief now, when he turned to me, there was only surprise. "Are you still injured?"

"No, but I'm a woman." I muttered, crossing my arms, trying to not feel bitter or over-emotional. "So... off to the caves with me."

"You are exhausted, Wenduin."

"So are you." I was sure we'd had this exact argument hours ago, Aragorn sighing, looking as tired as he probably felt. "Aragorn, this-"

"We are not abandoning you, nor denying your skills." Aragorn was trying to reassure me. "I call you my sister so that you may always be with us freely. But this time..."

"You don't want to worry about protecting me."

Aragorn nodded. Boromir didn't seem as convinced.

"I said I'd go." Or I'd decided it. I swallowed down the bitter anger and added, "But this is the only time you can order me to not fight. The next time, I make up my own mind. I know the danger of this as much as you."

"I know." Aragorn moved away, slowly, "And I will see you when it is done."

"Yeah, yeah."

Boromir and I watched him hurry off, before Boromir moved closer. He sat beside me, breathing out slowly, as if just standing was an effort for him.

"How badly are you hurt?" I asked quietly, sitting beside him, his hand coming across to grasp mine on my knee.

"There were a few arrows. The medicine of the Elves has sped the healing but I am not to fight. Much." Boromir continued, "I seem to be in debt to you."

"Not really."

"No." He cut me off. "I am. My actions towards you were... unforgivable, and yet, you saved my life. The Lady Galadriel told me that you were right. I should have died." Boromir stared down at the ground, face haunted now under the hood, the pale skin only adding to the effect. "You saved my life and then, she had Elves come to bring me so that I would not bleed to death. I believed you had died to save me."

He stared at my hand, in his, adding in disbelief, "Even now, you allow me to touch you."

"I told you." I muttered, staring at our hands. "It wasn't you. It was that evil thing."

Boromir nodded, squeezing my hand. "Were you … hurt? In the way I did?"

"No."

"I will pretend as if you were." Boromir met my eyes. "So that I may think clearer. So that I may kill Uruk Hai."

"Thought you weren't meant to fight?"

He shrugged, not answering, gazing up.

"I'd tell you to not fight but..." I gritted my teeth as I felt my own anger, at my own order to 'hide like a good woman'. "...well, it's your body. And I know how stupid it is r tell someone to not fight when they want to."

"You want to fight?"

"I don't understand why women aren't apart of this as well, that's all." I responded. We went quiet, as people rushed past with basketful of cloth, Eowyn running backwards and forwards. "They're so short on numbers and some of the people fighting are too old or young, women would be as good as them, even better... never get between a woman and her child."

This reminded me of something. Something which, suddenly, I wanted to tell Boromir. Was it bad to tell him the future? Probably. It was his next words that more or less decided that though.

"That attitude of yours, Wenduin, was why I would have happily had you marry Faramir." Boromir's smile appeared, slightly sad, as he stared forward. "I have not met a woman who would stand beside her man in battle."

"If I tell you something, would you swear to not tell anyone? And understand that... it may not happen? I mean, it probably would, but..." I met Boromir's eyes as he raised one eyebrow. "But if you spoke of it, it might change it, or if you tried to help it, or..."

"My actions would change this mystery that you are so keen to tell me about?"

I nodded.

"I will not utter a word of it, until I am given permission to by you." Boromir raised his hand to his heart, thumping it gently, cringing slightly. "I would swear on my debt to you."

Eowyn rushed past, face determined, heading for her uncle. One last attempt at staying out? Who knew.

"You see her?" I said softly, to Boromir, shifting closer. He actually flinched as our legs touched. He nodded, and I continued, "She is Eowyn, the shield-maiden of Rohan, as good a warrior as any man here. Niece of Theodan. Amazing singer."

"What of her?"

"She loves Aragorn, for now, but..." I smiled, voice growing softer still, Boromir on my every word. "You cannot speak of this... I don't know if it's even the right thing, to tell you the future, but-"

"What?"

"One day, she will be your brother's wife, the woman and the warrior. Exactly what you wanted for him."

Boromir went quiet, watching as she rushed past, her face dark, clearly having been told to head to the cave. He opened his mouth, as she suddenly noticed me sitting there, and headed straight for me. Uh oh.

"Wenduin, we are to be in the caves now."

"Now?"

She nodded, I groaned, shutting my eyes.

"Let me speak to her a minute more." Boromir spoke up, his voice surprisingly quiet, adding, "She saved my life."

"If the doors shut, and you are not there, I am not responsible." Eowyn moved away, quickly.

Boromir watched her go Was that awe on his face? Something, that was for sure, something like wonder or awe or something good. He breathed out slowly. "She is-"

"Don't speak of it, no matter what."

"I swear to it." He responded quietly. "She is beautiful."

"Amazing fighter too." I nodded, standing. I sighed. "Off to the caves like a good girl, I suppose... where's your beard?"

"Lord Haldir thought I should appear more as an Elf, than a man, until it was time for the Captain to return to Gondor... with the hood, and no beard, I am no different." Except, I thought quietly, Boromir was bigger and bulkier than most Elves. Boromir reached up, self-concious, and I swore I actually saw him flush. The man looked ten years younger without it. "It will grow back."

"Yeah, it will." I shut my eyes as Haldir's eyes flashed through my head, and once again, his death.

"You do not wish to hide, do you?"

"It scares the fucking crap out of me..." I muttered, Boromir's laugh an answer, "But..."

Boromir clasped a hand over my mouth, laughing, shaking his head. "Your language, my Lady, is terrible. Terrible. You must change it. But-" Something was dunked over my head, suddenly, and I felt a cloak. Not his, he still had it on, but someone. I hoped it wasn't Theodan's. Stealing from the king, bad idea. Boromir started towards where we'd seen people come and go with weapons, and glanced back. "Come."

I followed him, curious, and we headed into the armoury once more. To my surprise, he went inside, pushed me into a now empty storeroom, and smiled. "Now, you wait for me here."

Here? Alone? Anxiety drummed up, but Boromir vanished, without even touching me. When he returned, he stood in the doorway, dropping things. Armour. Clothing.

Softly, he said, "No man will see your face in the darkness or know you are there. Do not speak, and Legolas will not hear you. I will not give you away. Do not swear as you do either, woman." He had a trace of humour there, throwing a pair of glove things at me, shaking his head. "For that too will gather attention. I know men who are better speakers than you."

"You aren't afraid for me?"

Boromir hesitated, as he held out the helm, and he said quietly, "To be truthful, I am. But I am afraid for us all. One more sword, one more bow, and your vision of the future. Stay close to me away from the front line of the battle. If we need retreat, for I cannot fight, you must come."

"I promise... I mean, swear." I added, "I'll watch your back till you have to retreat. I'd rather be apart of it, than nothing at all."

Boromir nodded. He turned, shutting the door as he did, "I will ask for one helm and one cloak of the Elves for you. I will not be long."

I thought they might notice someone wearing battered Rohan armour, and an Elvish cloak, but he was already gone and I dressed quickly, tugging on the heavy leather thing. It was thin, clearly not 'heavy armour', but it was heavier than I was used to. Oh well. It was a bit like the one Legolas had been wearing and didn't really fit that well... but I could move my arms, and it didn't really matter if it was tight in places.

When he returned, I had to ask for help, and Boromir moved quickly, tugging buckles, but... he wasn't like he had been when Frodo had been with us. He didn't touch, he didn't stare, however affectionate his face was.

"The caves are now sealed." He informed me softly, tugging the helm over my head, hands tugging my hair back out of the way. "You are here."

I felt relieved and fear all at once, reaching up to adjust it, as the cloak was offered. When I glanced in the mirror nearby, who knew WHY an armoury needed one, he was right. Unless someone looked closer, it was hard to tell, and the cloak more or less hid the armour in the darkness.

"Haldir knows." Boromir added. "I had to tell him, so that he did not order you. But he does not disagree. There are women amongst the Elves here. I told him your feelings and he-" He actually smiled then. "- agreed with your logic. But it is not for us to tell the King what to do."

I nodded. Hesitated. I was really in this. Really doing this. I breathed in, slowly, and out, trying to squash the panic. No one here felt any better than I did. There were children out there holding swords about to see more Uruk Hai than they had men. Ten thousand people to me wasn't so surprising, I reminded myself, but to people from here? Even the cities didn't hold that many men yet.

"Right. Let's ...get out there and kill a few hundred Uruk Hai." I breathed in, once more, trying draw in as much strength as possible.

Boromir shut the door though, locking it, and leaned against it. Locking us in. Blocking me in. I tried to remind myself the logic that had been easy before, that I wanted him to live, that I wanted to trust him, that I …

But now, I just felt panic, and I tried to squash the urge to dart backwards, or kick him in the balls. I didn't really want to be alone with him like this in such a small space.

Boromir was distracted though, he wasn't looking at me, he was staring past into nothing. "Is that why you rejected my brother? You knew of her?"

"Huh?" It took me a moment to get what he was thinking. Was he still thinking about her? I supposed it was pretty big news... "Well, no, but... I knew it wasn't me. Somehow. And anyway, I really would only marry for love, I don't get the idea of telling someone who to marry."

"My father and mother were arranged. But he loved her. Loved her more than he loved himself." Boromir rested down on a stool, heavily, partly to do with his wounds, but mostly... he needed to. He reached out to pick up some armour, tugging the cloak off, and ignored me as he tried to pull it on. When I reached forward, he held up a hand. "No, let me. I have been doing this on my own since I was a boy."

"She died with Faramir..."

Boromir nodded. He tugged the chain mail shirt over his head, slowly moving his arms, as if it pained him. But there was pain that probably wasn't related to this. "Sometimes it works. That kind of love. Respect turns to friendship, and then to love. My father loved her and when she died, he lost his heart with her. I understand now. No longer can I be angry with him for his resentment towards Faramir, for I understand."

I wasn't really sure where he was going with this.

"I swore to never marry until I saw Faramir loved. But you have shown me who will love him. So..." Boromir stared up. Uh oh. Now I thought I got it. "Would you marry me instead?"

That was all kind of wrong and I gaped at him, not sure what the hell to say. I had all these words come up. Mostly related to swearing. Rude things. I wasn't sure why it repulsed me so much. Marry him? After what had happened? I couldn't even picture saying yes without feeling like I wanted to run screaming, kick Boromir in the balls, and run away appologising as I reaffirmed that I would NEVER marry him. My entire body had tensed.

Apparently all that wasn't important. All I had to do was hesitate.

"Do you not care for me?"

His words provoked that old fear again, that old hesitation and anxiety about being alone with him, and I vaugely remembered him asking this then. When he'd done... that. Warning bells started to ring in my head as I tried to not panic. Tried to stay calm. Boromir wasn't crazy right now. His eyes were clear, he wasn't shaking, and I tried to speak without betraying what fear those few words had triggered. "As a _friend_, Boromir, and I... I'm sorry, but..." I couldn't believe he had even asked. It hurt to reject him, because I saw the pain on his face, but it repulsed me. Being married to him. After that. "I can't marry you." And Legolas. I grasped the leaf, suddenly, feeling really dizzy.

"I did not think so, Wenduin. After the way I hurt you, I... do not believe I deserve that kind of joy. I would not abandon you with child, though, if it comes to that. I would not shame you with my evil." Boromir stood up slowly. He grasped a belt with a sword, pulling it around his hips, eyes down. "I would be honoured by your friendship." He met my eyes, a sad smile there, a tired smile that made him look far older than he actually was.

Then he saw the leaf and he paled.

"I did not see that. How long have you..."

"What?" I glanced down at the gift Legolas had given me and tucked it away. "I don't know. Lothlorien."

"I never saw it. Never. How could I miss it?"

I didn't get why he was so worked up about this. "I suppose you weren't looking at my jewellery..."

"You were betrothed, already, and I ..." Oh god, there it was again, the guilt, the anguish, and for a moment I saw his father in his face, saw that strange grief and madness. Boromir turned away. "I swore to you that I would accept the law of my people for that. And I will." He reached for the door, face white where I could see it. "Come."

"Hang on, Boromir." I grabbed the handle and shoved it shut, ignoring a startled older man as he rushed past. "Hang on. Firstly, betrothed? I don't think I'm that. Secondly, I don't want you to ...waste your life away, or go mad, or something." He stared at me as if I was mad when I said that, but I continued, "I mean, yeah. If you need to go to prison for a while or something, if that is what you feel is the right punishment, fine, but... I didn't save your life so you'd suffer with it. Find a woman, make babies, grow old and tell your grandchildren about these adventures. That kind of thing."

He didn't answer for a very long time. Things flashed across his face, all kinds of things, as if what I'd said had really triggered a lot of deep shit for him. Boromir slumped back down and stared up at me. "You would have me ...be happy?"

"Yes. For fuck's sake, yes. Look at what grief did to your father." I knew it was weird, me talking about a man I hadn't met, but I could see it. See the madness. "Just be happy. I don't blame you. It was-"

"I know. It was the ring." For once I didn't see his usual 'flinch' or 'blink' to swearing.

"Yeah, trying to break apart the Fellowship, trying to make it fail so that it'd survive. That thing's horrible. I used to dream about strangling Frodo, you know..." I hadn't told this to anyone before.

Boromir breathed out slowly at that. "You did?"

"Yeah." I sat down beside him. "Well, a lot of things, a lot of things about violence, and the urge to take it, and power, and... I guess, the more I felt it, the more sickened I was by it. But I don't have the safety of a city resting on my shoulders, do I? It wasn't like I needed the power. If I loved something and it was in danger, I might have ...been a lot more tempted. Also..." I added, quickly, reminding him, "You weren't meant to come. Your brother felt the urge to come. Anyway, it happened the way it had to. Your role was perfect."

He sighed again, shutting his eyes, a release of air that I suspected was a lot more than just about oxygen. "I tried to take the ring. Now, Frodo and Sam walk alone, and-"

"They're doing what they were meant to do." God, I wanted to tell him the ending, I wanted to tell him it'd be okay. Instead I had to say something else. "And Pippin and Merry have woken the Ents, we saved Theodan from Saruman, we're here to help Rohan defend itself, so... we just have to accept it. Things don't go as planned all the time but that doesn't mean it won't work."

"Will they succeed?" His question was soft, just a exhale of words, like he couldn't completely bring himself to ask. As if the question scared him. "Or will this be for nothing?"

"I don't know. I just know it's going the way it has to. That's got to be a good sign, right?" I had to lie. I grasped his hand and this time it was Boromir's turn to flinch. "And right now, we've got to defend Rohan."

"If the Lady Eowyn meets Faramir, then ..." He sat up slowly, inhaling once more a deep breath, and this one seemed to give him strength. I could see Boromir putting the pieces together in his head. "If she escapes this place, if she is meant to marry him, then ...perhaps this fight is not lost."

"It hasn't even started. But... okay, I did see it. One possibility. That we'd win. Yes. Okay. We might also be crushed under stampeding Uruk Hai boots, Boromir, so we need to..."

"Defend them."

I nodded as I patted his hand. Boromir was breathing in and out again, deep breaths, grief fading. He must have been squashing it down. Slowly, he tried to smile, and he stood. "Then, come. I would not allow you to die now. I would see you marry as well. I have always wondered how Elves conduct such a ceremony. You must invite me."

Elves? The word 'betrothal' slapped me in the head, but I was tugged up, Boromir clasping his cloak around him again.

This necklace. It was an engagement thing. I stared down at it. Yes, okay, maybe this was obvious to most people. I'd only just realised.

"And I will invite you to my wedding, Wenduin. Let's go."

"Remember," I said as he moved to open the door, "I told you to cheer you up but ... no one else can know Faramir will marry Eowyn. If sh-"

Eowyn stared at me, face white, right on the other side of the door. I knew it, from the look in her face, knew that she'd heard it.

Oh shit. Oh shit. I should have kept my mouth shut.


	9. Anxiety

Outside no one would know me. I knew that. But in here, with brightly lit braziers on the walls, and my hood down, she knew it. Even with the helm, she knew it. How much had she heard about her own future?

Eowyn opened her mouth. Before she could speak, I heard a shout, Theodan's voice echoing, "Eowyn!"

She startled, staring sideways, as he came down the hall, and to my surprise she actually grabbed my hood and yanked it over my head. Something was shoved into my hand. Her sword.

"I thought my weapon would be of use." I heard her say softly, "We will speak later," before she strode off down the hall.

"She is a good woman, my niece." Theodan said softly, watching her go. He moved to clasp Boromir's shoulder. "I see you found something remaining that fit. Good. Come, Boromir." Theodan didn't even really look at me, and when he did, my hood must have covered my face enough. "And friend. It is time."

"This is a friend from the Elves. He remains by my side for this."

Theodan didn't even blink at this request from Boromir, he nodded, and strode off, distracted. We followed him outside, Boromir ahead of me.

It was quiet outside. The only sound was of metal shifting against metal, armour rubbing, braziers sending thick smoke and the smell of coal into the air. The light of the moon cast down on Helm's deep, creating glinting silver shapes, and I followed Boromir to his position some ten metres along the highest wall from Theodan.

We were not on the front line up here. We weren't even close to it. I was honestly just happy to be apart of it, though 'happy' was the wrong word, and I knew that with my bow I could do a hell of a lot of damage. Probably more than with Eowyn's sword realistically.

In the distance, we felt it, we heard it, this 'thump, thump, thump', shaking the ground, a great stream of light coming slowly towards us. It had to be at least two or three miles away and yet it was already making the rubble dance on the edge of the wall in front of me.

"A river of light." I said quietly, gazing at it, at what 'ten thousand' really looked like. It was seriously frightening. As I spoke a rumble of thunder drowned me out.

"A misleading one, aye." Boromir nodded, gazing out, the wind in our face. "Sh."

Elves lined the lower wall, alongside men, and I remembered that I wasn't supposed to speak. But when I looked for them, Legolas was far along the lowest wall, right on the front line, and must not have heard me over the thunder. Phew.

The sky started to rumble, flashes casting a light briefly over the thousands of dark bodies marching to us, and as they got within five hundred metres or so, I heard the tinkering of rain on helm, metal, bodies. Yeah. It was time. Now I shivered. _Now_ I felt afraid.

I felt a hand grasp mine, briefly, Boromir leaning closer to my side. In the darkness no one saw or cared. What surprised me was how this simple 'friendly' gesture suddenly made me want to hurl. It scared me. I didn't like being touched by him.

"You have skill with your bow, little sister." He said softly. "I will not be far."

Fine. I smiled a tense smile and felt relieved when he let go, though he probably thought it was nerves for the battle, my hand cold suddenly.

Boromir moved to the side, to men who had come to stand around him, offering orders from under his hood. I lifted my bow and gazed at it. It was Elvish. Why hadn't I noticed before? When or how had he gotten his hands on this? It wasn't Legolas bow, that was for sure. It was smaller and fit perfectly. It drew in my hands easily and yet I was sure it was incredibly strong.

He must have caught me staring at it because he said, between orders, "A gift from the Lady Galadriel. She said you would need it."

I nodded, agreeing with that, and grasped an arrow. The wood was pretty slippery in the rain but the bow held steady and I readied myself, watching as the terrible horde of monsters froze just metres away, a sea of black and fire. Fear was clogging the air.

Yeah, I knew it could end well, but I had proof standing beside me that things could change. That they _did_ change. Hell, I thought I'd just told Eowyn who she'd marry by accident, and knowing how stubborn she was, I had a bad feeling about that.

They started to pound their spears, their armour, sending waves of fear through us. Everyone. The ground literally shook under my feet with every 'thud, thud, thud', their growls, screams, unearthly sounds echoing over the sound of the rain and the thunder, the moon gone. The stars gone. It was as if the storm had come with them.

Boromir stood beside me, a bow drawn, and I drew mine, gazing down. We heard the call, "They are weak at the neck and at the arm!" from down below.

Honestly, I couldn't see either target from this distance, but I kept it in mind for when they got closer. I knew they would.

I heard Aragorn shout, suddenly, and the Uruk Hai went silent.

"What happened?" Boromir said softly.

"We fired by accident." One of the men explained from lower down, voice soft. "Hold!"

"Why do we hold? They're scaring the crap out of us." I muttered. It made no sense to me. Were we just going to stand there while they exhausted us with fear? But I guessed we were in the keep, not them, we were supposed to be defending. Weird. Their accepted role? Scare us and attack. Ours? Stand here, be scared, and defend like frightened bunnies.

Either way, it was enough, and to my horror, they suddenly charged at the wall. Hundreds. Thousands. Even worse though was behind them, where more Uruk Hai moved forward, but did not attack. Waited.

Aragorn's voice rang out, echoing, the sing of arrows released. It was only when I heard Gamling shout 'Fire' that I let it go, firing into the mess, snapping my arm back to fire again, and again, and again, ignoring the strain in my muscle at the repeated action.

People in the keep started to fall, on our side, bodies falling. Horror filled me, the first stench of blood wafting up, but there was no time for that.

"Ladders!" Boromir shouted, to the men below, as we saw things lifting.

Uruk Hai were clinging to the ladders, and so I fired at them instead, trying to avoid shooting anyone from Rohan or Lothlorien. Sometimes I missed. I seemed to get more than I missed though,arrows usually cutting through, sometimes bouncing back off their heavy metal armour. Ladders dud what they were meant to though- suddenly, Uruk Hai were on the lower walls, and rushing up at the warriors, at the Elves, and at my friends.

"Keep shooting at those coming up the ladders." Boromir ordered to me and to those around him, no longer my 'friend', but my Captain. "Let us make this easier for our friends."

I nodded, aiming, and continued to fire at them. I saw Gimli standing on the walls further down, cheerfully knocking them off with his axe, my heart in my throat as I kept seeing HIM nearly knocked off.

But...

We were doing okay. Not many were getting up the ladders, they were getting knocked down, and …

The wall blew up.

I was flung down, Boromir knocking me and two other soldiers down as a man sized piece was flung into the wall right in front of us, falling down below us, and crushing someone who had been standing there. Not far behind was a body, an Elf, who lay very still, very quiet, collapsing.

I checked him, I couldn't help it, and found him breathing but unconscious.

One of the men cried, "How! How can they..."

"Leave him! We will tend to them later." Boromir dragged me up, standing, cringing. I saw blood seeping out onto his neck. He must have opened a wound with that one. "Keep firing! Fire at those coming into the keep!"

At the same time, I heard Theodan call, "Brace the gate!"

"I told Aragorn!" I hissed, raising the bow, trying to fire at the crowd of Uruk Hai throwing themselves into the giant hole. They were advancing on a body. Aragorn. Gimli appeared, suddenly, flinging himself at the horde alone. "Kill the one with the torch!"

There were so many dead. Even now, even when the wall had just been breached, I suddenly saw how many bodies lay still on the ground further below. I saw how many were dragged back, injured maybe, and though I didn't know them, horror filled me. Now the caves were tempting.

"Quiet!" Boromir hissed, nudging me in the side, and I almost kneed him in the groin for it. Like usual... the physical contact increased my fear to fever pitch and I edged sideways, trying to avoid it, too strained to deal with this fear of him. Too tired to tell myself mentally that he was 'safe'.

I could only continue to try and help, as I heard Theodan call orders, Boromir repeating them or adding to them from up higher. Arrows, seemed to be never-ending, until I realised that they were being refilled for all of us by a boy racing up and down with a bucket full of them.

Time dragged out.

They didn't seem to stop coming. No matter what, no matter how many I shot, or the soldiers slashed, axed or stabbed, it continued, and exhaustion dogged myself. Boromir had shoved fabric into the space he was bleeding, but he too looked exhausted, hiding it as best he could.

Injured people vanished. I had to assume that they were being dragged off somewhere, maybe, I saw them once, but I didn't have the energy or time to look. A great deal more men and elves were left under, beside and over the body of Uruk Hai.

I tried to not see the fight below- the thousands of Uruk Hai, the hundreds flooding into the hole, against a hundred or so men and elves. Where had the rest gone? I knew, I knew the answer, I knew that we'd already lost quite a few, and that others were being taken inside. Some part of me was a little surprised by this- that

"Go, go down to help!" Boromir called to the other men.

The soldiers around us dropped their bows and lifted axes, swords, spears, before rushing down.

"Theodan will pull back soon to the Keep." Boromir said softly, his arm coming to rest on mine. "We must go lower and help them make it safely to the Keep. Are you ready?"

I nodded, and he started down, the two of us running down, firing as I ran. The further we got, the worse it got, and just as we got to the bottom, we heard Theodan call those exact words to Aragorn.

"Haldir..." I stared at the Elf. It was like he was outlined, just for me, so fucking obvious against the top of the wall. I slid my bow up, holding an arrow, teeth gritted, ignoring as men rushed past me, retreating. I was going to try. I was going to fucking try and save his life.

"Cover me." I hissed to Boromir, who's sword was out.

"What?" But he didn't argue. He moved closer, shielding me from Uruk Hai who rushed at us, as I stared at Haldir.

This wasn't going to be good enough. I was too far. I ran, charging, Boromir right beside me, right past Legolas, ran straight for Haldir up onto the wall. Saw him slashed, injured. Three, two...

Something raised above his head, an axe, the axe that would cleave his brain in two. I flung myself at the heavy Uruk Hai, dislodging his aim, the axe nearly cutting off Haldir's shoulder instead, cutting flesh as it fell down his arm.

It turned, grasping my throat, lifting me up, ready to fling me sideways off the wall.

Time slowed. I stared at it, it stared at me, baring its teeth, muscles slowly contracting as it both crushed my neck and readied to throw me sideways. A blade cut through the arm, I thought it was Boromir, and at the same time an arrow went into the side of its head.

The world sort of turned sideways a moment, the smell of blood and stickiness coating one side of my head, I swore I was staring at boots, but the next thing I knew I was standing once more, an iron grip around my waist from behind... knowing it was Boromir, it had scared me, snapped me out of a daze, snapped me into 'fight and run' mode...

I spun around, trying to shove him off, wheezing through my bruised throat, eyes wild with fear and hurt, but it wasn't Boromir. He was some feet off. Moving in slow motion, dragging Haldir, yelling something that was just noise and nothing more.

I was dragged down the stairs, everything moving so slow around me, and found myself staring up at the stars. Wishing they'd grow brighter. I couldn't see who it was dragging me. And when they did, I felt no surprise, no surprise when I saw the world light up briefly for me and the person dragging me lit up by starlight as if he was some kind of beautiful angel.

Legolas.

This snapped me into my senses, he was calling in Elvish, shouting orders to other Elves that were still alive. Still alive. They hadn't died, not all of them, and the wall... when I glanced back... it wasn't as broken as I remembered. But there wasn't time to ponder this, a short stocky dwarf threw himself at something inches from my back, axe thunking into whatever it had been, and we were dragged behind doors, Gimli with us.

"You could not resist, could you?" Legolas had turned on me, speaking, even he was breathing hard. But he wasn't angry. I blinked at him, confused, as he reached up to touch my scalp. The touch made my head explode with pain. "Sorry. You dropped this."

The bow. I grasped it tighter, sliding it over my shoulder, defensively muttering through gritted teeth, "Haldir was going to die."

Haldir flinched, his face white, hands clasped hard around his leg.

He looked like he was about to faint. For long terrible second I wondered where we'd go, where we'd be safe, because those Uruk Hai weren't staying out there long- the lower gate was already being slammed hard.

"To the infirmary!" Someone shouted, as they passed us, Legolas nodding.

"Come, quickly, to the Hall." Legolas had turned to Boromir. "Both of you." He called something over our shoulders, an order again in Elvish, gesturing to the walls. Six, maybe seven, Elves sped up, leaping up as if they were magic bunnies with swords.

Boromir nodded. I saw only now, the panting, the blood seeping down his arm and stomach, the white face and pained expression. He stared at me, "Wait. You swore to come with me. When I retreated."

"Now?"

Boromir nodded.

Legolas grasped my arm tighter, for a moment, his eyes meeting mine. Affection, worry and... pride? It all burnt there, all unspoken, but sending my heart into a crazy rhythm, which was a crazy time for it to do it. I felt like I couldn't breathe for a moment. Then I remembered- you had to actually inhale for it to work. When he said, "This is your choice," I changed my mind about him being in the doghouse.

"All right." I agreed, panting for air, shutting my eyes a moment before moving up the winding stairs behind Boromir and Haldir. Legolas vanished, in a single leap, bow in hand, Uruk Hai climbing over the walls.

We didn't see them though, didn't even lift a blade to them, we were ushered inside.

This Keep had always seem huge to me, inside, but it made sense. There were various rooms off the main hall, including the armoury, with the only exit through the heavy metal-and-wood doors that protected us from outside. Right now, with Haldir's blood leaving a trail behind us, Boromir panting in pain, and my throat and head spinning, it suddenly seemed huge and complex, a maze, tunnels, doors and no sense to any of it. I stared ahead, dazed, Boromir trying to get me to tell him where to go.

"I don't... remember." I reached fr my head, confused once more, staring around.

It was lucky that one of the guards, a man who looked injured himself, was there to show us the way. His post, I noticed, was at the door to the caves, and he leaned heavily on the wall when he returned, pressing a dark red cloth to a bloody eye. Or lack of eye. I didn't know, I couldn't see anything under it.

"Inside." He informed us, coughing up blood onto a second cloth he dragged out of a pocket.

"Fine." Boromir didn't even seem to be bothered by that. The door was shut behind us and with it, the sounds of battle faded a little. The vibrations, I noticed, didn't grow softer.

"This way." Eowyn called, as she spotted us, waving her arm. We didn't argue this time. She led us in, a white dress apron thing over her under-dress, sleeves tied high on her arms by fabric, hair back, blood spotting her hands and face. She evaluated us with a quick look, myself and Boromir on either side of Haldir, all three of us injured but two of us able to stand. "Two of you are able to move? Good. I cannot help you but here..."

She dashed to a pile of blankets, tossing a couple in our general direction, and waved her hand at buckets. "One bucket for the three of you, if you want more water, you'll need to collect it."

"My lady!

Eowyn turned, hastily rushing off into the rows of injured men, shoving her sleeves back up into the fabric that bound them out of her way. Fires burnt, pokers hot and golden already waiting, other women moving backwards and forwards. Smoke must have been funnelled out somewhere, the air was pretty clear of it, but the stench of blood and other things filled my nostrils.

I picked up the blankets and the bucket, Boromir taking on Haldir's full weight. "Where to?"

"Come, down here." Boromir moved towards a stretcher, past elves, men, some I suspected were dead. I couldn't look long enough to find out. He lowered Haldir down, heavily, and sat down himself.

Haldir collapsed onto the mat on the ground, breathing hard, blood streaming down his leg and arm. Boromir was dragging his own chain mail armour off, tearing at fabric, and he threw me a piece.

"Tie this tightly around his arm, Wendy."

I nodded, trying to not hear the cries, the shouts, the screams around us, though it was hard to ignore, hard to miss the way the world shook. I focused instead on Haldir, his bleeding arm, trying to restrict the flow of blood to his arm so he didn't bleed out. He grasped my arm, nodding, his body shaking.

"See? Things can change." I muttered. "You're both alive. You were both supposed to die." Somehow though, I didn't feel triumphant about this, just exhausted. A bit worried.

"Two lives spared that should have been taken." Boromir tore Haldir's pants with a dagger. The wound was nasty, very deep, very black already. "The poison would bled out, thankfully."

"Thankfully." Haldir actually laughed, softly, shutting his eyes. He muttered something in Elvish before he asked,"What about you? Boromir? Wenduin?"

I hadn't even known that he knew my name. "I'm okay. Just ...sore." I reached up to touch that gash on my head. "Sore head."

"I am fine." Boromir stared down his shirt, then shrugged. "I am sorry, my friend, but I must seal this. I cannot bind it tight enough. Wenduin..." He pressed something against my head, ignoring the pain it caused me, and moved away.

I held it there anyway. "Not sure when I did that."

"You fell." Haldir explained. "Breathe, my friend." Haldir said softly beside me. He clasped his hand on his wounded leg hard, blood coming up between his fingers, cringing but not letting go.

"I should be comforting you. Where's that magic elf medicine when we need it?" I didn't remember falling. Supposed it made sense though- they had cut that Uruk Hai's arm off, the one holding me up, so falling was probably the natural result of that.

He smiled grimly and actually reached for his pocket. "I have that too, but Boromir is right to move quickly, for this is not something that heals fast. Not as fast as I need." Haldir grasped for a bag under his armour, tucked away, and held it out. "This powder, in warm water, pour it between three cups. It will help."

Doing as he said, I stood up, the world swaying. I felt a hand on my leg, Haldir steadying me, and I blinked, a little confused. Why was I so dizzy? I tried to breathe again, deeper, slower, and went to get us hot water, cups, still more or less ignored as the worse injuries were dealt with.

Powder, mug, hot water, cold water, and we had it. Warm water.

"There is more for others." Haldir took his cup, dropping another small bag, shutting his eyes as he drank it slowly. I was ashamed to admit, I did look for sparkles, I did look for skin knitting together. Nothing like that. But he did seem to get a little more colour.

I took it and drank, slowly, a pepperish taste flooding my mouth from the stuff. But I made myself drink the lot and felt a rush of heat flood my body, head to toe, as if someone had flooded my veins with hot water. My head seemed to clear of fog slightly.

He held it out to Boromir, who had returned with a glowing hot poker. Boromir shook his head, holding it to Haldir's mouth, saying softly, "Drink, friend. I will drink after. You need it more than we do."

Outside, a great bang made us all flinch, and I stared at the closed door to the little cave chamber. "That's not good, is it?"

"There are too many." Boromir said quietly. He reached out to grasp my arm. "Hold him while I do this. Haldir, bite on this."

I reached over to hold Haldir, who was quiet now, trembling, probably going into shock. He barely flinched when the poker was seared into his skin, though his eyes widened, and his teeth clenched around the wad of fabric Boromir had offered him. The smell of scorched flesh added to the stench of the air around us, and burnt hair.

"You will live, Elf. But you no longer have a pretty leg." Boromir joked softly.

"Not may have." Haldir said quietly. He shut his eyes. "I do not worry about a scar. It will not last forever."

Elves. Typical. "I'll get him a blanket." I stood, my own legs weak, and grasped a blanket to drag over Haldir's shoulders. "He's in shock."

We sat there quietly, the three of us, watching as injured were dragged inside. Eowyn rushed past, no sign of tiring, guiding the injured. Other women helped, here and there, but none left the caves. Not even Eowyn. She spoke to one of the men at the door, injured but guarding it, and we heard echos of battle suddenly increase.

"They are retreating soon." Haldir said, softly, his eyes still shut.

I nodded, grasping the Elf's hand, squeezing it. "I know."

"You heard?"

"Wenduin sees the future." Boromir sat down heavily and started to press fabric against his wounds. It wasn't as bad as it looked, I guessed, he didn't seem as bothered by it. Just exhausted.

"Not all the time. Just sometimes." I shut my eyes and rested down on the rolled up mat beside Haldir. Where had my helm gone? Must have lost it before I hit my head. Sleepy, dazed, I felt someone offer that peppery water and when it had made it easier to talk I muttered,"I hit my head a lot, don't I?"

"Yes." Legolas' voice surprised me. I blinked, opening my eyes with some effort, and found myself staring up at him.

Okay, that was weird. We weren't in the infirmary place. We were in the hall, in a corner, and ...sunlight poured through the windows. I stared around, disorientated, as Legolas ran a damp cloth over my hair.

"Um." I said, weakly. "I slept through the end?"

"The battle is over." Legolas gazed up. He had dirt, grime, even sweat on his face, but he was smiling, and he was the most beautiful sight I'd seen in some time. "The medicine of the Elves put you into a healing sleep. You have slept much of the day."

Oh _man_! "So I missed it all? The horsemen? Gandalf? The trees eating orc?"

He blinked down at me, amusement creeping across his face at my disappointed, and nodded. "You did."

"Aw." I shut my eyes and then quickly opened them, worried that I would sleep, but nothing had changed. "That's really anti-climatic. I thought..."

"Battle would end in a shower of glory?" A body collapsed beside me, and though I didn't see who it was, I felt it. Instantly, I felt my entire body flinch, adrenaline course through my veins, as an arm brushed across my side, a smell filled my nostrils.

Boromir.

He shifted aside, apparently not noticing the change in my body, adding, "It rarely does."

The smile on Legolas face faded ,somewhat, he must not have missed it, but I tried to smile weakly. Calm down. He was innocent. It wasn't his fault. I had to stop reacting like this. I had to stop blaming him. I had to stop freaking out every time I smelt or felt him touch me.

"Boromir, can you bring some food?"

Boromir nodded, getting up heavily, moving away.

Legolas stared at me, really stared now, and I tried to ignore it. "What did he do to you?"

I smiled weakly, trying to sit up, blanket sliding off me. Others lay, here and there, but Haldir was striding beside Theodan. Striding. On a leg that was holding him. "He's healed."

"Haldir is aiding the healing of human so that they may return." Legolas responded. "What did Boromir ..."

Theodan strode up, pulling gloves on, his face a lot less happy than I would have expected. Beside him was Gandalf, Haldir direction those few Elves remaining to aid with healing... or I guessed...

"Lord Legolas, Lady ...Wenduin..." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Were you not in the caves?"

"She was called to fight alongside her Kin, my Lord." Aragorn was moving across, his armour gone, exhausted. "The Elves. She did what her instinct called her to do when she saw her kin."

Oh yeah, because I was part Elf.

Theodan nodded slowly, distracted, muttering, "Fighting alongside your kin, both men and elves. Yes, I can see it, and Aragorn does not disapprove. Never mind that. We ride on to Isenguard."

"What about Saruman?"

"There is great clouds of smoke rising from Isenguard." Gandalf responded. "And I have seen the river rush across the land, where it was once stopped, returning to parched creeks and rivers. Something is going on there and friends await us."

"Pippin and Merry?" Aragorn asked.

Gandalf nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Saruman is defeated here and there, I feel. The sooner we leave to aid them, the better. We can rest soon."

Legolas stared at me as I stood up, slowly, and I saw that question still in his face. That tension, as Boromir rose heavily. It hung between the three of us, this thing I couldn't bear to tell him, this thing that ...somehow, I just felt too ashamed to admit. I knew it wasn't my fault. I knew that. But it felt like it somehow. It was easier to pretend it hadn't happened.

The problem was, I knew I had to tell Legolas. I knew he knew something was wrong. I could see it in his eyes. I also suspected that he wouldn't see it the way I did.

I swore softly, only he heard, trying to shove it down. Okay. Hobbits. Duty. Things to do. I followed the others to the stables, trying to focus, trying to relax.

There was a certain point people started to collapse, get tired, shut down. So much they could take before their minds and their bodies started to shut down.

For me, it was just about there, and I knew that I needed a rest for a few days.

We rode to Isenguard soon. First, apparently, we'd eat. Theodan had said 'a few minutes', or more or less a medieval wording to that effect, but it had already been an hour. I'd had a bit too much time to feel the effect of the past week and I sat there, dazed, feeling my body physically start to react.

"You're not hungry?"

I blinked at Aragorn, who watched me closely, and nodded vaguely. "Guess I am. Tired too."

Aragorn nodded in agreement, yawning, fatigue making his eyes cloudy even as he lifted his spoon to his mouth. Even Legolas seemed tired, sitting there, picking at the few fruit and vegetables that remained, face dirty, hair messy, surprisingly human looking.

Gimli was asleep on the table. All the food gone. He had ploughed through it and passed out.

We all sat in the Hall, men, surviving Elves, with more of us in the caves. Food was spread out, mostly soup and things that were hot and quick to prepare, sitting over the fires. It was more of a self-serve thing, the men moving up to feed themselves, the women somewhere else. There was this arid smell of smoke in the air, lingering under the smell of the pipes that some men smoked, and the smell of blood. Stress. Sweat.

When I tried to tell Gandalf, when I tried to let him know I couldn't take another fight, and I couldn't bring the energy to see anything of use, he didn't seem the least bit surprised.

"Soon, we will be able to rest." He reassured me softly, drawing me aside.

"I know. I'm just letting you know... I'm a bit tired."

I caught Eowyn staring at me. She moved away though, quickly, going to speak with Aragorn as he was packing a saddle pack for his horse. This wasn't good. I knew that. I was sure she'd heard the part about Faramir. I would see her being much more openly affectionate towards Aragorn and ..._wonder_. Was that because of me? Or was I being paranoid?

And on top of that, Boromir.

Now that he was here. Now that he was alive and breathing in front of me. The earlier 'I've got to save him' urge was long gone. I couldn't explain it, I couldn't even begin to understand why, but I was struggling to separate 'Boromir influenced under ring' from 'Boromir, the good guy'. And when he spoke to me, although I doubted Boromir noticed when I got tense, Legolas sure as hell did. The tension was really starting to build. Deep down my instinct told me that Legolas knew what had happened was far worse than Boromir punching me in the stomach.

I sat there, eating, these things rolling around in my head like a heavy stone, and the headache seriously didn't help much. I wanted to sleep but I didn't feel tired. It was just this feeling that I _needed_ to sleep.

Things were starting to catch up to me. Post traumatic stress ...something? I didn't know what it was called.

"We are moving the horses." I heard Eomer speak to his uncle, at one point, as he stopped to stand beside him. Maybe he looked the least bit exhausted here, who know, but maybe he was just one of those people who didn't look tired.

"Where to?"

"To-" Some place, some word I didn't quite catch, I had to assume it was the name of the valley or something. Eomer thumped his heart and moved away, putting his helm on as he moved past us, several people beside him.

"Why are they moving them?" I asked Aragorn, who was reaching out to drop his empty bowl in the middle of the table.

"The horses can smell the stench of death and blood, the fires from the bodies outside, and it unnerves them." Aragorn explained. "The Rohirrim will take them a mile to to the west where there is grazing upwind from Helm's Deep. There, they will graze free for a day or two, until the last of the Rohirrim have left this place."

I nodded, and suddenly felt sick, knowing exactly what that foul smoke was. "They're burning Uruk Hai."

"Yes." Aragorn's voice went softer. "And they prepare their own."

"Not the elves." Legolas said quietly. "They have their own rites."

Burial rites for Elves. I was too tired to think about it.

The day drifted on, as we sat there, somehow not able to really fall asleep yet. Instead we tried to help the women inside the hall- cleaning the bowls, or dumping clothing into great cauldrons of steaming hot water, or just bringing water from a spring in the caves. Clothing had to be washed now, apparently, it had to be rescued and passed on. Armour repaired. It was their way. They honoured the dead by using their belongings, remembering them, and by using these things as a point of pride.

That was what surprised me. How much pride, no matter how grieved people were, was etched into everyone's face. They'd won. The dead had protected Rohan and were heroes. Herod that would be spoken about for generations, an impossible battle of only three hundred against ten thousand, a battle that would forever be in Rohan's memory.

It was the women scoured across the bloody battle field, moving rock as big as themselves, moving heavy Uruk Hai, _women_ the ones to arrange each Elf and Man gently in the shelter of Helm's Deep so that they could be found by their loved ones. Husbands, sons, old men, children, lined up side by side, Elves alongside. Some women had to leave. Some were too upset to stay. But most of the women, even ones who'd lost everyone, refused to leave until every last Uruk Hai was burnt and every last son of Rohan, every son and daughter of Lothlorien, named and honoured. Seen.

I didn't think I'd ever forget that. I saw a woman with a boy in her arms, maybe nine or ten, walking on her own up the stairs into Helm's Deep, eyes blank as if she was in shock. Others, sitting there for hours beside bodies, or searching endlessly as they clutched a familiar weapon, shoe, anything, that they must have found separated from their family.

They would arrange them, side by side, ready for each burning. Take all their clothing and wash them, their faces, their hair, their bodies, before re-dressing them in simple clothing. I found out that there was a tomb waiting, within the cave, long ago carved out for the battles that would come in Helm's Deep, prepared. It was made to last for hundreds of battles. It would be filled today.

If they saw a man helping who was exhausted, if they saw me trying to help, they would literally order us to rest. Eoywn was determined to make sure every last survivor ate, rested and waited, with little care for how effective the Elven medicine was that Haldir and the other Elves had brought.

With a small group of guards- mostly horsemen from Eomer's group- took over helping the women, we were finally able to sleep. It was already evening by then. I followed my friends into the caves and really saw them for the first time.

They were _incredible_. Moria, but natural, great empty echoing caves with natural lakes, and not at all dark. I had to assume this was fungus or something, something that created such a natural light upon the rocks, but it lit the caves from bottom all the way to the top... which had to be a mile or higher. Here and there, mostly near the entrance, there were smaller narrower areas, which had clearly been the 'resting place' of women and children. Now they were for us.

"The glittering caves." Legolas said softly to my side. "I have made a pact with Gimli."

"A pact?"

"When the war of the age ends, Gimli shall walk beside me in Fangorn, and I shall see the beauty of these caves." He stared up, breathing out slowly.

"This is just the start?" I felt glad somehow though, glad that they had bonded to this extent.

"These caves go much further. This is just a tiny area." Gimli stopped at Legolas' other side. "Not an hour, a night, or a week would be enough."

It occurred to me suddenly that when this was over, Legolas and Gimli would... vanish. This bothered me big time. Okay, no, I didn't want to get between that. Not even a tiny bit. But he was Elf and he kept forgetting. I was human. Would he wander off into the wild, loose track of human time, forget that I aged?

When had I started to look forward to the future anyway? When had I started to hope to spend time with Legolas after this? The shock at feeling loss, already, at being alone, it shook me a little. I followed them, numb, through a smaller tunnel that led off the large chamber, barely as high as Legolas scalp. I clung to blankets, Gimli carrying pillows for the three of us, Legolas with the mats.

As they arranged them, I watched people pass by, haunted faces, stunned.

"Lie down, Wendy." Legolas' use of my nickname, the 'human' version, kind of surprised me. I stared at him, realising he'd already dropped mats and pillows down. I stared at the blankets I'd carried in, nodding, slightly numb. Gimli took his over Legolas, dragging it over him, and was almost back to sleep straight off.

I dropped his down and sat down on the hard ground, breathing in and out slowly, trying to sort out what the hell was going on in my head. I saw others, through the darkness, men moving past with blankets, or with steaming mugs of soup, as shell-shocked as I felt.

They barely looked at us or saw us- we were in a tiny nook against the edge of the wall, barely high enough for Gimli to stand, and the little candle barely gave any sort of light.

I curled up on my side beside Legolas in a private area, Gimli right on his other side, and knew we'd get no ...privacy. Not like that. Not even when Gimli fell asleep. This somehow was fine by me. The idea of being touched like _that_ bothered me. His hand slid into mine though and that seemed to be okay. Didn't push my anxiety further.

Gimli was asleep within minutes.

We lay there, side by side, our hands entwined concealed between our bodies. In this dark corner, no one could really see me there behind Legolas or Gimli, and I turned onto my side to watch him. He was wide awake, staring up, his thumb brushing across my hand slowly.

"Crazy week." I offered, softly, and he pulled me closer, arm wrapping around my body. I breathed out slowly, trying to let go of the tension this action caused,feeling him drop the blanket over me so that I was somewhat concealed.

"I wished for you to stay in the caves." Legolas stared sideways at me, his hair loose now, but only faint disapproval. His behaviour confused me. Telling me to stay in the cave. Literally forcing me to lie to him and everyone. Then not seeming surprised at all by what I'd done, even expecting it, even _looking out_ for it.

"Well, it worked out." Except for the 'missing the end of the battle' part. "Did you know I'd sneak into it?"

Legolas actually frowned then, leaning back against the cave, his voice barely over the sound of Gimli's heavy snoring beside him. "I tried to give you a chance to stay away. Give you an excuse. I feared you would be hurt. I was very afraid and..." He hesitated, reaching up to touch his hair, run his fingers through the tangled mass of blonde hair. "...more than I am used to. I let my fear control me. Never before have I been tested like this."

"Happens to the best of us." I muttered. I reached up to touch his hair, the tangles amusing me, the dirt on his face, the grime. It was the most natural Legolas had looked since I'd met him. The most real. "You look good with dirt. You look almost earthly."

Legolas reached up to touch his face, self-concious, probably not used to the idea of dirt. "I knew you would have to fight. I hoped to change what I had seen. I did."

I blinked at him. "You ...did?"

"You did not die." He shivered, adding softer, "Nor did Haldir."

Die? _I_ was supposed to die? Why did that creep me out? My neck ached, reminding me of what had nearly happened, but I honestly hadn't thought about it before now. "That was close. Wait. How much of me have you been seeing?"

"An Elf will start to see his or her mate from the moment they have matured physically. Not just for children. For a partner. We believe..." He went quiet as someone moved past, voice lowering, suddenly giving me the impression that this was not the kind of thing Elves usually shared. "...in secret that we are only half a soul. That we have lost half of ourselves to another body. An equal. And when we are reunited, we regain all our strength."

I stared at him, shifting up so my arm was across his chest, breathing slightly faster as my heart thumped. But somehow this made sense. How? I had no clue. Somehow I saw Galadriel and Celeborn as he said it, this pair of Elves, and while I'd never spoken to the Lord Celeborn... I felt like he was equally as powerful as her, in a different way. But I wasn't Elf.

I felt tired, more than usual, feeling myself start to say the now all too familiar words."Legolas, I'm not-"

Legolas cut me off. "When I reached maturity. I started to see you. A woman. Blood streaming from her ears. In water. For many decades I would look in each river, in each lake, seeking you. It was only when I stopped looking did the waters bring you." Legolas traced his fingers along my neck, up the side of my head. "The woman that was not born of man, nor of Elf, but ...both."

"I'm _not_ elf." I muttered. I wanted to sleep suddenly, resting my head down, shifting to his side. Hard ground or not.

"You are more Elf in your spirit than man. You are more man in your body than Elf. Do you not remember how the stars answered your call, long ago in Rivendel?" His anger was fading, slowly, as he traced the curve of my neck slowly. "Do you not recall how they grew bright for you? We do not always choose to be born in the body of our kin. Sometimes we return in a body that suits our purpose in life."

"That was the wine."

"I would not offer that intimacy with you. Elves are not that way."

I blinked him. Why did I have the impression of Elf orgies in Rivendel then? "But... the elves. Running around naked. Sleeping with each other."

"You misunderstood what you saw. We are not ashamed of our bodies or our pleasure. We can not be." Legolas spoke quietly. "For we hear everything. The love shared between our bodies, is heard by any Elf close or far, for we do not have selective hearing. We see more. Shame around love and around this-" He ran his hand slowly down my back. "-was long forgotten. But we do not sleep with any. Our love is always focused to one. It was ...difficult for me. I waited for you for four hundred years, since the time of my maturity, waited to pleasure you, to finally ..." He hesitated. "To finally reunite. I found you ashamed. Unable to let go of your protection with me."

An uncomfortable sense of embarrassment trickled over the exhaustion in at that reminder. Yeah. Okay. I had been a bit nervous. I muttered, voice heavier with sleep now. "I was-"

"I was too fast." Legolas smiled, shutting his eyes, resting his head back. "Elves pretend we have self-control. We do. But we must bury our urges very deep. Sometimes when we feel … when we first feel that love, we ...struggle to contain it. I have waited for you for a very long time."

I shut my eyes, hearing him murmur something in his voice, exhausted suddenly by this bombshell. Elf soul mate. Twin souls or something. It was too much on top of the last week and I didn't want to cope with it.

"Sleep, A'maelamin."

"You too."

Nightmares made the attempt at rest difficult. Nothing memorable, they'd be gone the second I opened my eyes, but they woke me over and over. It disorientated me, I couldn't tell if it was night or day.

My eyes flew open once again, as my mind fled from the nightmare again, only this time... I felt like I was still in it. I stared at the stone above me, around me, felt it under me, heard the water somewhere, no light, and suddenly I was sure I was still drowning. I felt my lungs fill with water, as I gasped for air, burning them as if it was fire. Felt my hands scrambling, bleeding, cutting on rock and stone, as I tried to grasp for something, and trying to push away ...an Elf?

He stared at me in the dark, face pale, hands on my shoulders as he said something. It took some time to ...remember who he was. Where I was.

"I need to get the f-"

"Don't swear." Legolas muttered. He almost cringed at the word. Was it that bad I blinked at him. Huh?

"I need to see the stars." I tried again, swallowing down panic, heart fluttering. I stood, hunched over, nearly standing in a candle that was knocked over and melting all over the stone. "It's too dark. I need to see the sky."

Legolas nodded, grasping my hand, and I trusted his eyes to lead us outside. The second we did, the second we emerged on the edge of Helm's Deep, all the tension faded, all the panic, and suddenly I wanted to cry. It was embarrassing. I didn't know why I wanted to cry, but I did, and I stared at the stars.

It was early morning, maybe, the sky was not as dark as I expected. There was a fainter blue glow on one edge of the mountains. The few guards remaining, mostly Elves, were scattered along the edge of the remaining wall or silhouetted in the dark against fires they were keeping alight. Most of the bodies had been burnt or moved now- there was only rubble. It was hard to tell in the faint light though.

"What did you dream?"

"I was drowning. In a cave." I could still feel it too. I could still feel my chest hurt, feel the memory of it, the panic still swimming around uneasily in my stomach. I felt selfish to feel so distressed about it. I clearly wasn't drowning. "It wasn't important."

"Maybe you remembered the moment before the river."

"Maybe, if there's caves in that river."

Legolas didn't answer. He stood beside me, arm brushing my arm, staring out into the stars. I wondered if he could see more with them, know more, wondered how he saw the world compared to me.

Our earlier conversation drifted into my head as I watched him stand there.

"The Elves at Lothlorien could hear us?" The question popped out before I could stop it.

Legolas actually smiled at that, twisting his head down to look at me, clearly amused. "Your first question is that?"

"Well..." I shrugged, face warming in the cool air, the tension fading as his smile eased it away. "I guess so. Yeah."

"Of course. Some heard."

Oh. Now that was embarrassing. It managed to distract me too. I ignored Legolas as he reached out to loop his arm around my waist.

"No shame, Wenduin. There is no shame."

"So why hide under my skirt?"

There was a flash of something across his face, a mischievous smile, amusement, even _glee_, as Legolas said softly, "To take a look at A'maelamin."

I gawked at him, this 'little boy up to no good' totally unexpected, and elbowed him hard in the side. When I smiled, I saw his shoulders relax, and wondered if he'd made that up to get me to smile. Maybe.

I leaned against his side, just slightly, breathing out slowly. The dream was fading away now. It barely made any sense. Drowning in a cave? Strange- I was sure the river I'd been found in was more or less in the open sunlight. Who knew.

Something in the back of my head suddenly tensed up, so sudden, and I didn't really understand where it came from.

Not until Boromir moved to stand on my other side, bare chested, yawning, a glass of something in one hand. "You both rise early. Tis good- I was just informed by King Theodan that we leave at sunrise."

It took me a few seconds to get past the 'Oh shit, it's Boromir', to what he'd actually said. I was shocked at my own reaction to it. Not to leaving early- I wasn't surprised by _that_- but that Boromir would be coming. Why was that surprising? I'd saved his life. _Course_ he'd be a part of this from now on. Automatically, I felt myself do the 'Boromir's a good guy, a nice guy, it was the ring' mantra, as he stood there, apparently not noticing how tense I'd gotten.

Legolas had.

I didn't have to look at him to know that.

"Okay, well, in that case we'd better wake Gimli and eat." I said, trying to sound ...I didn't know, cheerful, bubbly? I wasn't sure if it was convincing.

"No need. Aragorn's awake and already doing it. Food's still warm from last night. Mostly the broth." Boromir responded, holding out his cup, showing us the remains of the soup from yesterday. They must have made a lot then.

"We'll get some." Legolas turned, more or less ordering me to follow, and I decided that this was a much easier choice than to stand there with Boromir and try and hide my unease from him. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault...

We were joined soon by Eomer, who only stopped for a few mouthfuls before continuing out with an armful of leather to recapture the horses we'd need, Aragorn, Gimli, King Theodan moving in and out of the Hall as he checked on the progress of everyone. It wasn't long before Eomer had returned, horses saddled outside, and it was time to go.

The horse I rode wasn't the one I'd been given before.

I stood beside it, staring at it, this giant towering black creature that more or less ignored me. Okay. This was a big one.

Hands grasped my waist, I flinched, immediately picturing Boromir, but it was Aragorn lifting me up as easily as if I were a child. "Don't hesitate, Wenduin."

I didn't really have much choice, leg over the giant black beast, the horse turned its head to stare at me as I tried to sit properly on the saddle... whatever 'properly' was, I wasn't sure, but I assumed it was the way it least hurt. Heart thudding, I waited, for it to rear, or to move, or …

It just stood there, blinking at me, still chewing on a mouthful of hay that had been hung on the wall in front of it. Like it wasn't sure what the big deal was.

"She is young but she is well trained." Aragorn ran his hand down her neck, almost affectionate, the mare nuzzling against him. He handed me the reins. "Squeeze just slightly, and use these to direct her. She will follow your lead without a problem. You do not need to pull hard or kick her. Her name is

I took them and watched as Aragorn leaped up easily. Nervous, I tried to squeeze my legs, trying to follow him as he was already riding to where the others were. He wasn't kidding. She shot forward, like she was glad to move, I barely had to do more than pull one of the reins towards the people and when we got there, pull her head back. It was amazing...

"Natural." Aragorn smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand, as Eomer rode forward.

"Is the woman coming too?" He asked, bluntly, staring at me. It only now occurred to me that maybe I shouldn't have expected to come, being a woman, because this was clearly a boy's club. A boy's ride. "No offence, my lady, but-"

"We should expect nothing less from the sister of Aragorn and the daughter of an Elf. She is not one of us, Eomer, and she was one of the Fellowship. She is welcome." Theodan responded, not even looking at me, his gaze grazing over each of us. He seemed to have a lot more energy now. "Let us ride."

"We follow you, Theodan King." Gamling bowed his head slightly, a banner in one hand.

Theodan took off, just as the first rays of the sun broke over the Mountain and onto Helm's deep. We followed close behind.

I had never thought about riding, though admittedly I could only remember a few months of life, but now I suddenly felt the thrill and draw of it. We rode fast for some time, the hooves pounding, muscles flexing under my legs, the wind in my hair, my clothing flapping, before we slowed down, and even then, it was like flying. I was sure my horse, who I nicknamed Speedy, was loving it too, her ears were forward, her head all arched, and in the increasing sunlight, I found myself admiring her coat- it wasn't black, it seemed to be a very dark shade of grey, dappled with lighter bits that stood out only in sunshine. Very pretty horse. I decided to call her Tinkerbell till I knew her real name. Silly name? Yeah, okay, but it was one of the only things I remembered from my 'past life'.

Our horses easily navigated the dangerous plains, slopes, hills, somehow avoiding holes and other nasties. I had to assume this was because they'd grown up in this sort of land. There was no real 'straight' bit of the trip, not really, it was always slightly downhill or slightly uphill if there wasn't any larger slope. I had to trust that my horse would follow the others and not fall over- I couldn't stay alert, I fought sleep as the first and second hour dragged on.

Eomer did stare at me, from time to time, but more or less ignored me. Sort of. It was only when he'd gotten a glimpse at my ears, or lack there of, that he seemed to be satisfied. It was kind of infuriating. People around here assumed I was Elf. No human ears? Clearly Elf. It didn't matter that I was thicker bodied.

Or maybe he ignored me because Aragorn was my 'brother'. Who knew.

Boromir didn't. He talked to me. He rode beside me. And I wanted to knock him off his horse and scream at him to leave me alone. It was bizarre how hormonal, how weepy, and how badly I was reacting to it now. It. That thing he'd done. How come I'd been so cold about it before? How could I draw on that again?

I didn't understand. I didn't want him dead. I didn't want him unhappy. I just felt sickened now. Now that he made it clear he'd be around, I felt sick, like the sheer idea of it weakened me. Like it zapped life out of my body.

"Stay awake, Wenduin." Gandalf's voice came right beside me. He met my eyes, hands resting easily on the shoulders of his beautiful horse, as it clearly knew where to go. "Is something on your mind?"

"A lot of things." I muttered. Only Gandalf and Legolas would hear me like this, I knew, we were stretched out, at some kind of fast horse run. Gallop or trot or … I didn't know, I wasn't a horse person. Somehow I'd found a rhythm and just let my horsie go for it- at some point I must have been told horses were herd animals and liked to follow, because I wasn't that concerned.

"We will talk later." Gandalf promised, before leaning forward, an unspoken exchange between him and Shadowfax urging Shadowfax faster. Somehow my horse agreed and went faster too.

It wasn't a short ride. But after a time, slowly, we came to a thick forest, and Gandalf finally spoke up.

"Ride single file, behind me." He seemed anxious. No, not that, but … watchful. I didn't understand it, somehow helping my horse move into position behind Legolas, not until we started into the forest.

I got it when we got in.

It was hard to explain. It didn't make sense to me. But the forest felt angry, it groaned, it seemed threatening. I wasn't sure how to describe it, I just stared up at it, somehow anxious myself as the sun was cut out around us. In here, it was dark, as if it was dawn once more, and it was kind of scary. Even the horses were on edge. No one spoke and as the time dragged on, the smell of smoke and blood started to mingle with the smell of musky old forest.

I was sure it'd be late by the time we got out, sure we'd been in there hours, but we came out into bright sunlight, the sun still in the middle of the sky. The trees were thinning. The smell of smoke was increasing, blood, water, dust, and also...

Pipe weed?

I'd been around the hobbits long enough during the first part of our journey to know that smell anywhere. It was different to the stuff that Aragorn smoked, it was muskier, and I had more than once wondered back then if it was some kind of drug like weed. Very distinctive.

Up ahead, I saw the trees finally parting, and the remains of some ancient crumbling wall ahead, great mountains behind. This wasn't so surprising around here, not really, there was tons of ruins in Middle Earth.

Then I saw this great big phallic tower and knew we'd found it.

The sound of laughter, someone crying out, and I relaxed. Okay. Yeah, I remembered this part. I smiled somewhat as we came around toe bend to find Merry and Pippin sitting there, surrounded by food, drink, clouds of smoke rising from their pipes. Merry climbed his feet, slightly unsteady, probably a little drunk. Probably stoned too.

"Welcome, my lords!" He added, as he met my eyes, his smile widening, "And lady. To Isenguard!"

Gimli, in front of me, wasn't the least bit amused to find them drunk. "You young rascals! A merry hunt you've led us on and now we find you feasting and ...smoking!"

I moved up, slighly, and drew my pretty Tinkerbell to a stop beside them as Pippin responded, still with a mouthful of food.

"We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well earned comforts." He gazed at the meat in his hand, relaxed, taking another bite, before adding, "The salted pork is particually good."

"Salted pork?" Gimli's anger was gone suddenly. Popped by the prospect of meat.

I couldn't help it. I laughed softly, as he relaxed back, shaking my head.

"We're under orders from Treebeard who's taken management of Isengard." Merry informed us.

"We can show you him if you'll give us a lift." Pippin added, standing slowly, as unsteady as Merry had been. "The water's a bit dirty. And deep. So can I..." His eyes went pointedly to Aragorn's back.

"Behind me." Aragorn moved ahead, reaching up to help Pippin across, expecting this.

"Boromir." Gandalf said softly. Somehow, I'd managed to forget him, and now he glanced up from behind me. "Wait here."

Eomer went ahead to get Merry, who nearly fell off the wall, quick to stand upright as he found himself face to face with a complete stranger. Gandalf and Theodan were already moving ahead into the water, through the rubble, kicking things away from their horses if they bobbed too close.

I let my horse more or less decide what way she'd weave through this water and debris, seeing as she was just following Legolas anyway, staring in awe at trees. Moving trees. I saw glimpses of faces in those trees, eyes watching us with as much curiosity as we showed them, and very much alive.

This distracted me long enough before I realised the others were breaking the single line formation and so, I eased 'Tinkerbell' to the side of Eomer which she didn't object to at all.

"Young Master Gandalf. I'm glad you've come." A tree spoke to Gandalf, low, deep, rumbling. A tree! No matter how much I had expected this, from the vision weeks ago, it still got to me. And the fact that he'd called Gandalf 'young' did not help with my awe. He led us slowly, confidant as he moved his 'legs' through the dark brown and murky water, leaves dancing in the wind along his body. "Wood and water, stock and stone, I can master." He turned to us, stopping, a few metres away from steep dark grey stairs, the faint hint of yellow eyes under the grey-brown bark. "But there is a wizard to manage here."

I slowed down Tinkerbell between Legolas and Eomer's horses, Gamling behind me, running my fingers down her mane as I stared at the hidious tower. All sharp edges, dark, nasty, dark grey that looked black in shadows, with no beauty to it. It made me miss the elves, reminded me too much of Orc or Uruk Hai.

"Show yourself." Aragorn muttered, staring up.

"Be careful." Gandalf said softly, his head turning slowly as he took in the ruins of this place, or maybe seeking Saruman in one of the balconies of the tower. "Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

This reminded me that Saruman had been looking for me at one point. Maybe even now. I shifted, uncomfortable, wondering if I should have come. Gandalf would have told me no though. He'd have known the danger.

"Well, let's just have his head and be done with it." Gimli grunted.

"No. We need him alive. We need him to talk." Gandalf responded quickly.

Eomer, I noticed, did not look impressed by this news. He stared at Gandalf with the same expression he'd given me when he'd realised I was coming, something that suggested he wasn't at all pleased by this, and it was probably only out of sheer respect for Gandalf that he didn't argue. I couldn't say I blamed him for hating that idea. Gimli's idea of just chopping his head off seemed much safer.

A voice came down, soft, and yet every word was somehow clear to me. A voice from very high up in the tower.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men, Theoden King, and made peace afterwoods." A figured appeared at the very tip of the tower, clothed in white, standing out against the darkness of the tower. I didn't have to see him properly to know this was the jerk who'd tried to capture me and the hobbits. He spoke again, somehow making himself heard even from that height, to Theodan. "Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend?"

That was rich, I wanted to mutter, that he'd ask for this bullshit after he'd literally posessed Theodan, sent his ork friends rampaging across the land, sent thousands of Uruk Hai to murder us, and to kill us all. Seriously. He wanted peace? He wanted to be _friends_?

"We shall have peace."

The answer kind of shocked me. I stared at Theodan's back, slightly confused, wondering if he was posessed again. But as he continued, I got it. "We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there!" The anger in his voice was a relief. He continued, voice risen now in a shout, anger threading through it, all the anger that must have built during the battle. "We shall have peace when the lives of the soliders who's bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornberg are avanged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows-" Ow, I had to admit ,I liked that one, "-we shall have peace."

I suddenly really liked this man.

"Gibbets and crows?" Saruman spat, the softness and fake plea gone now, probably back to his usual pleasant self. "Dotard! What do _you_ want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess- the key of orthanc. Or perhaps the Keys of Barad-dur itself along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!"

He sounded paranoid, almost, half mad. I blinked, the bright sky making it hard to see him properly, wondering. I didn't know what any of those things were but I couldn't see Gandalf caring much. Why would he? He had the Elvish ring of...

I blinked. Oh yeah. How had I fogot that? He had one of the rings of power. Cool.

Gandalf didn't even answer his accusations. "Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's counsel."

"So you have come here for information." Suddenly, I felt his eyes land on me, as if he was slamming them into me. It was scary. "Ask her."

I breathed out slowly, Tinkerbell edgy under me, the man seriously creeped me out somehow. I almost felt ashamed when I said, very quietly, "I don't remember that part," but I was sure that he'd heard. Sure that I felt his mocking. Yes, I'd remembered things, glimpses of fights, battles, lands, dragon-like things, but … I couldn't tell the difference between each place. I seemed to have a better chance of remembering things if they were connected to a person.

Gandalf glanced back at me, his kind gaze knocking my anxiety and guilt straight away, and I knew that he already had known this. That it was fine.

"I have some for you." Sarauman spoke up. He held something up, something that seemed to give me the creeps as much as he did, and he spoke once more. "Something feasters in the heart of middle earth. Something you have failed to see. But the great eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon."

Gandalf moved closer, as Saruman spoke, his staff still held up.

"You're all going to die. But you know this, don't you, Gandalf?" Saruman's attention was on Gandalf now. "You cannot think this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him … those he professes to _love_." No one spoke, as if Saruman was weaving a spell with his words alone, a spell that made me feel depressed. Hopeless. Let down even. "Tell me, Gandalf, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path you have set him on can only lead to death."

"I've heard enough." Gimli's soft growl cut through the spell. "Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob."

Leoglas moved, quickly, maybe expecting Gandalf to tell him to stop.

"No." Gandalf was quick. "Come down, Saruman and your life will be spared."

"Save your pity and your mercy. I have no need for it!"

A fireball exploded, suddenly, right around Gandalf. Tinkerbell almost reared, Eomer grabbing one rein as I lost it, somehow getting her back down with barely a touch. He gave me that exasperated look, briefly, as if this was all he'd expected, his attention focused on Gandalf.

Gandalf was on fire. The flames were so bright, so hot, that we cringed, the horses trying to back up, the heat almost blistering as it had been with the Balrog.

Not for long though. The flames cut out, fading, Gandalf completely untouched. "Saruman. Your staff is broken."

And just like that. Saruman's staff shattered. Pieces of it rained down and someone appeared behind him, all in black, hunched over as if in pain.

"Grima, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan." Theodan's voice was softer, gentle, as he said, "Come down."

It made me wonder. What had Grima looked like before Saruman? Been like? Had he been sickened too? Who knew..

"A man of Rohan?" Saruman's sharp tongue returned, staff or not, clearly disgusted. "What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigards drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dog? The vicotory t Helm's deep does not belong to you, Theodan, Horsemaster. You are the lesser son of greater sires."

"Grima. Come down. Be free of him." Theodan said softly. Had he ignored him? But his words made me wonder. Maybe he had been trapped.

"Free? He will never be free." Saruman hissed.

"No..."

"Get down cur." Saruman hit Grima hard, knocking him out of our sight, and I felt my hate increase for Saruman and vanish a little more for the other.

"Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council. Tell us what you know!"

"You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here!"

Something made him freeze, I could see it even from down here, and Legolas moved fast, an arrow let free before my mind really understood what I'd seen. Grima. Behind Saruman. Saruman moved, slowly, and then he was falling.

He slammed onto a spike on a wheel, dead suddenly, and Gandalf didn't even hesitate.

"Send word to all our allies and to every corner of middle earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike."

I stared at the body. Literally, just a white shape, blood seeping at the edges. It slid, slowly, the wheel turning, until every last inch of whatever Saruman had been was gone into the muck and dirt of the water. Something slid out of his robes with a heavy splash.

"The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come to live here now. Young trees. Wild trees." Treebeard said softly, as Pippin slid off his horse, almost as if he was half asleep.

Pippin's hesitation about the water earlier was gone now, he was wading through the water ot where the thing had splashed, the water waist height on him. He lifted it up and stared at it. A dark black ball, like glass, but it seemed to move under his hands. Like something was inside. A fire or something.

"Bless my bark!"

Gandalf was already moving ahead. "Perigan Took. I'll take that, my lad." When Pippin hesitated, Gandalf reached down, sleeve across his hand. "Quickly now."

Pippin slid it up to him, Gandalf hiding it in his robe, looking almost guilty. Gandalf stared at him a long time before he turned to us, as Aragorn helped Pippin back up.

"We shall camp here, higher up, where it is dry." Theodan said, moving closer. "So that we may return to Edoras tomorrow before it grows dark. There is food and supplies."

"A lot of it." Merry agreed.

"Then show us a place to make camp."

* * *

A/N:

Thank you for reading! Putting up with spelling errors, grammar errors, ect. I do intend on going back and editing this. What do people think about chapter lengths? Shorter? Longer? Been having issues with laptop- I accidently deleted the wrong user account. :S Woops.


	10. The truth of that moment

For the first time that night, for some time, I could relax. I could wander from camp without a guard. I could eat.

So, I followed Legolas into the dark, some excuse about 'night archery training', and the second we found a darker place, I was against a tree and being kissed as if the world was ending, as if I was dying, heart breaking kisses that were tender, and sweet, and almost desperate.

For the first time for a week I could wonder about this again.

I stared at him, drawing my head back, meeting his grey eyes in the darkness. It was funny how clear they were to me, so obvious, even though it was so dark. Still. I couldn't take it. He was too close.

"Are you all right?" Legolas frowned somewhat as I pushed him back an inch, cold night air crashing in between us, his body tensing.

"How do you know I'm your ...twin thing?"

"I know." He lowered his head, kissing my neck slowly, hands tracing against my hair. "Do you not remember me? In your dreams?"

"Here? Sure." I was sure he'd featured in them now and then. I inhaled slowly, shutting my eyes as his lips teased my skin, sending warmth flooding throughout my body. When he lifted my leg and moved his hips against mine it just added to it. I wanted him to make love to me. The words 'make love' had never meant so much as they did right now. But at the same time I just wanted to shove him back. Fuck. I wanted him to love me. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust him, with that intimacy, but I wanted to...never do it again at the same time. _Never_. All these conflicting things were making my head and heart hurt.

I couldn't lie to him about it any more. Even as I realised this, I felt the pain, as if the words I was about to say had already ended it. How could he feel anything for me?"

"Legolas? If I tell you something, will you promise to ...stay here? Not kill anyone?" And not kill Boromir. I heard my voice add, quiet, of its own accord, "And not be angry at me?"

"Mmm?" Legolas shifted back, slowly, staring at me. The desire was gone. There was hesitation now, wariness, his hand tightening on my arm. "I swear it, if you wish."

"Boromir. He hurt me."

"How?" Something seemed to be in his face though. His neck had tensed. His hand clenched for a moment. Self-control seemed to be slipping in his face for a moment and then suddenly it was back. Calm face.

It was almost like he already knew what I was going to say and it didn't help. I swallowed, trying to keep my eyes in Legolas eyes, but those grey eyes scared me now. Too calm. Something was brewing under it. I was sure I felt it. I looked away into the darkness. "It wasn't just a punch, Legolas."

"I know."

Legolas could have hit me. It would have had the same effect. I felt like I'd been punched and doused in cold water all at the same time, hurt, stunned, angry, and ...confused. I know. Two words. How did he know?

"I heard. Wenduin, I heard it." There it was, the stormy ocean below the calm face, something that looked almost ...mad. "I was too slow."

His words shocked me. I stared at him again, his hands refusing to let me go, Legolas shifting closer. The closeness should have scared me. It didn't. Somehow it made me feel better. He was physically _not_ rejecting me. "Forgive me."

"Forgive _you_?"

"I could not reach you before it was over." Legolas stared at me, that emotion exploding up, and it was guilt. Heart wrenching guilt. Had he always known? Seriously? Super elf hearing... and my guilt increased. Irrational guilt, maybe, but Legolas had been holding onto this as well. From the look on his face, he was convinced it was his fault too.

"But it was the ring. It wasn't really him." The words, this mantra I'd tried to use to calm myself and comfort myself, sounded hollow when I said them out loud. "I should have tried harder."

"No, Wenduin, there was nothing you could do. Nothing." Legolas moved away, a moment, his voice soft as he hissed something in Elvish. For once, he wasn't gentle, he wasn't all regal and unearthly, he looked as deadly as he had in Helm's Deep. Legolas went quieter, almost dangerous, "I know that he was under the influence if the ring. But it does not change it happened. If he does not face the laws of Gondor, he will face those of our kin. What was done is unforgivable. Do you-" He hesitated, his palm suddenly against the side of my face, cupping it. "Do you not remember me? After?"

"What?" I stared at him. Memories of it, of that moment, and all of them unwelcome. All of them trying to get me to vomit once more. I remembered ...shock. I didn't remember Legolas there. "You were gone. Scouting."

Legolas tensed at that, shutting his eyes, forehead coming down to rest against mine. "I left, once I had you lying down, I could not bear... I could not trust myself. You made me promise to not harm Boromir. You believed he had not meant it."

Legolas was not reacting how I expected him to. And I didn't remember anything he was saying.

"Legolas, I don't remember you there..."

"I know."

"But ...you're not angry?" With me? There it was again, that irrational fear that this was somehow my fault, that I was in trouble, completely overriding the bizarre 'Legolas was there' part of this that made no sense.

"At you? For what? I am furious, my love, but not with you." Legolas darkened, suddenly, pulling me against his chest. "I would not force you to endure him. I would ask him to leave, if you ask. I would ..." He didn't say it, but his eyes had gone dark, and I almost could fill in the word he'd refused to say. "Do anything you asked. This crime, this sin, no matter the reason, is unforgivable in our kin. _Unforgivable_. I will _never_ understand why you saved his life."

"Because it wasn't his fault." I muttered. "I know it sounds lame but he genuinely … I don't think he even saw it was me, I don't think he even was aware of me, it was all his own shit. All his own problems. He attacked Frodo too, you know."

"Not in the same way."

"No. In that way, he almost took the ring and screwed us all." Somehow though Legolas anger was helping. Somehow, it made me feel better, less crazy, like I needed someone else to confirm this was really bad.

Legolas sighed. He said quietly something in Elvish again, resting his forehead against my shoulder, trembling. It was weird. I could have almost sworn I felt his pain on top of my own. Like this had happened to both of us, like we'd both been hurt, and Legolas was only now letting me see it. Feel it. This raw pain, this fear, this thing that Elves just ...couldn't face. Where had I heard it? Something about Elves going mad if they were forced?

I didn't know if that was true or not.

"I would not recommend that." A voice came, soft, even sympathetic, and Gandalf appeared slowly, Legolas' head jerked up as he stared at the old wizard, who had clearly overheard him, and maybe me too. Gandalf came into the clearing slowly, as if he was afraid he'd frighten us off, his staff just giving off the faintest light in the darkness. It illuminated the grief on Legolas face much too much. "Boromir has confessed what he did and what he intends on doing. But-" Gandalf came closer to me, resting his hand on my arm, voice lowering even more. "There is no need for him to sacrifice himself."

Legolas flinched at that, stepping back, shoulders tensing. The anger and grief reared back up. "He broke the trust and bond of Fellowship. He-"

"He thought he did. What you saw, the both of you, was not real. It was a creation, an illusion of the ring's making, to drive Boromir's mind closer to insanity." His voice was soothing but it didn't stop the shock I had at his words.

"The … it wasn't _real_?" Memories of it, the pain, the heart break, it had felt real. It had to be!

"The ring can do that?" Legolas didn't seem convinced. "Is that what he said?"

Gandalf shook his head. "The ring sought a weakness in the Fellowship and found it in Boromir. Having him believe he'd done a terrible thing weakened his resolve. It broke his heart."

I remembered then, Boromir's shock when I'd made it clear I wanted him to marry and be happy, like he couldn't believe it. I stared at Gandalf. "Are you sure?"

"There would not have been time for such a thing to happen." Gandalf said quietly. "I am sure. I will restore the memory for you. You will see."

His grip on my arm tightened suddenly.

And suddenly, I was under Boromir again, as he tried to tear my leggings, his breathing hard, fear screaming in me. I wanted to scream. I couldn't even move this time. I could only be there, caught in my body, as he tried to do it all over again. Felt my leggings dragged off, saw his own being pulled down and...

But then he stopped. He just knelt there, and I just lay there, his eyes glazed. He was pleading though, panting as if it was really happening, pleading. But not with me. Not as I remembered. He was fighting with himself, trying to stop what was going on in his head, pleading for himself to stop...

I could hear my own panicked breathing, as if he was on top of me...

But he wasn't.

Then, suddenly, it was over. He'd finished. His body had come to orgasm without even touching me. It had taken barely thirty seconds. And Legolas appeared just a few seconds later, dragging him back. I thought we'd talked. I thought we'd been alone, that no one had noticed. I was carried back, more or less out of it, fighting off Legolas like I thought it was still happening. Legolas had to leave once I'd stopped trying to fight him off. The look, as he knelt above me, the look he'd shot Boromir, it was enough to kill him. But Aragorn had been with Boromir, holding him down, and Legolas was more or less ordered to leave by Aragorn until he'd calmed down. The hobbits, all asleep, except for Frodo...

So they'd all known.

Suddenly, it was real. This was reality. How, I wasn't sure, but I felt it. The other was some fucked up dream we'd shared. Some terrible thing. I remembered now, how disorientated I'd felt, how weird the entire thing had seemed after, and how weird it'd seemed that Legolas was still gone when I'd woken up again.

I blinked, seeing Legolas and Gandalf once more, my knees nearly giving way. He hadn't done it? "So..."

"Would there have been more time, perhaps, but nothing happened. If there had been more time then ..." Gandalf let go of my arm slowly, and grasped Legolas, who had fallen to his knees. He looked like he was going to faint. "Relax, my friend."

"Legolas found me?"

"But your memory says you walked back. Yes."

"I thought ...her mind. I thought it had snapped. When an Elf is raped, they-" Legolas exhaled. "She was talking to herself. Trying to walk. When she woke, she said nothing, and Boromir said nothing. I feared that if her mind did not recall, if I told her, that-"

"She is not an Elf." Gandalf's words made Legolas flinch. Maybe he was the only one that Legolas would really accept. "Not fully. She is not delicate like one of your kin."

"Not _fully_?" Oh man, now the wizard was at it. But I was too relieved. I knelt beside Legolas, breathing in and out slowly, the real memory making me want to cry. Suddenly, all my fear of Boromir was gone. It was so weird. It was fading away like a nightmare. I could only recall parts of it now. The worst bits. "Boromir knows now, doesn't he?"

"He asked the same of you." Gandalf seemed amused at that. "You both have much heart. He will recover. Now. There is food waiting and I will put some aside for you both. You do not need to rush back to camp tonight."

He moved away, slowly, leaving us there.

Neither of us spoke for a long time.

"You all right?" I asked, finally, Legolas staring at the ground.

"I should ask you." Legolas smiled weakly. He reached up to grasp my arms. "I ...shared it."

"What?"

"The pain of it. I told you. We are from the same spirit. I shared it. I carried it, believing you could not bear it. I am relieved." He reached up suddenly, grasping my head, kissing me hard, shuffling forward on his knees to get closer.

"So I'm not pregnant with his baby. He didn't do that." I suddenly realised that all this time I'd been afraid of that. I hadn't even let myself think about it but there it was, that fear, exploding into a shiny glitter filled 'IT DIDN'T HAPPEN' bubble.

"No." Legolas actually laughed then, pulling me against him, his hand grasping my leg as he pulled it closer. "No. A'maelamin, your heart. To hold that, for so long, all that fear, and still..."

"Hey, you didn't hurt him."

"Out of fear for you. That it might remind you. We had a duty to perform. When it was over, I would have had him dragged to Gondor myself."

_Drag him?_ Oh yeah. I stared at Legolas, between kisses, remembering. The Elf was a Prince. That was actually a big deal. Wasn't it? Butterflies rose in my stomach at that. This ...was going to be a problem. It was the first time I realised it. This whole thing was going to be a LOT more complicated than I knew.

"I love you." Legolas said softly, brushing my hair back to kiss my neck gently, his words sending thrills throughout me. The heat from earlier came back in a rush now. And this time I didn't recoil at the idea of it.

"I love you too." I admitted, quietly, as much to myself as to him. I did. It was crazy but I did. More now than ever. Even if the idea of 'Prince' scared the crap out of me. He shuddered at that, the first time I'd really said the words, and Legolas pushed me back onto the ground, following close behind, and for a moment we lay there, caught up in each other, ignoring the twigs.

"Not now."

I frowned, as he slid back up, his hair already askew. Legolas almost laughed at the look on my face, standing slowly, his eyes going back to the darkness. "You sleep, and I will keep watch over the forest."

"With you guarding the helpless woman?" I suspected Aragorn and Gimli would be less likely, but Theodan, Eomer? Probably still weren't totally convinced. I wasn't totally convinced I was bad ass either. I grasped a handful of dirt, watching as he tried to hide his 'brush hair down' from me, and half heartedly tossed it at him.

"Guarding all who sleep tonight." Legolas replied. He reached out to touch a tree, gentle, adding softly, "Though this forest is well watched."

I lay back and stared up into the trees. I swore I felt the ground move, roots or something, and remembered that earlier the forest had been much more vocal than now. It seemed calm now. "It's happier?"

Legolas nodded. "Asleep, yes. It does not fear you or I. Gimli is wise to remain some distance with his axe though."

"Living trees. I don't know how Elves kept warm." I muttered, tugging a blanket over, and pulling it around me. The night wasn't too cold anyway.

"The wood that falls naturally would be collected. The trees did not mind that." Legolas knelt, slowly, and reached out to run his fingers through my hair, slowly, the warmth of his body seeping through the scratchy woollen blanket. "It is the murder of them, unnecessary, that upsets them."

I lay there, tension fading, watching the stars through the trees, both of us going quiet. The forest groaned behind us, soft ones, almost as if some trees snored. Under the ground, there was the occasional shift, or vibration, and animals could be heard. Strange ones.

I started to look at the stars more closely, doing my best to remain awake and enjoy Legolas' touch, and was aware of how different they were. "I ...don't know these stars. I think ours were different."

I fell asleep there, not even waking as Legolas re-dressed me, somehow exhausted. When I woke, it was near dawn, Legolas standing against a tree nearby. I still felt warm, tingly, fuzzy, my heart so full of love that it wanted to explode all over the place.

"Love you." I said, sleepily, and he lifted his head to meet mine. The look on Legolas face was more than worth it, his face flooding with love, as he stood up straighter.

"And you, my love." Legolas head twisted, suddenly, as a twig cracked. Someone was coming. I didn't have to be a magic sparkly Elf to know who.

Boromir came through, slowly, his face drained of blood. He stared at me, and then at Legolas, and dropped to his knees beside me. "I …"

"You did nothing." I reached out, grasping his hand, and felt nothing. No fear, no repulsion, and for the first time since Lothlorien, felt affection. I liked the guy. I liked him again! That fake memory was literally almost gone now. Squashed under warm fuzzy feelings. I was loved, I hadn't been raped, and Boromir was my friend. "You're my brother here. I'm glad you didn't."

"No." Boromir agreed. He was trembling. Looked exhausted. He clearly hadn't slept much if at all. "I waited till morning to speak to you. Wenduin, I would have been happy to die for it."

"Exactly why it did it, maybe." I offered. "Seriously. Let's forget it till there's an orc to kill. Then we can use it."

Boromir smiled weakly. "I need no more reasons to loathe Saruon and yet I am constantly offered more. I swear with my life, I would spend every last breath to destroy all that he loves, until every last Orc is gone."

Legolas stood up and moved across, standing beside Boromir, clasping his shoulder. "Gondor. We each must take care of our own land."

"We must." Boromir stood up, slowly. "But, as long as I serve Aragorn, I will serve you. My men will. We will serve you both."

Legolas nodded. He no longer looked angry. He reached down to help me to my feet. "Then we must return to camp."

"Here." Boromir held something out, something he'd put down. "You both did not return for these. Eat them before the hobbits do."

I laughed softly and took the plate. When I opened it, there was just a few crumbs, half a browning apple, and ashes. "I think they already have."

Boromir scowled, taking the plates, and turned. " Then I will get you both food that you may ride on horseback. And kick the hobbits. Do not be long, my friends, Theodan is eager to leave."

We watched him go, Legolas sliding his arm around my waist, and I leaned against him.

"You seem better." Legolas commented softly.

"Well, I wasn't ...you know." I didn't even want to say the word now. "I just want to kick some orc butt." I gazed sideways at Legolas. _Prince_ Legolas. Oh boy. Somehow I felt like this wasn't going to be as straightforward as it seemed right now. I was too content to care right now. I leaned against him, feeling his muscles quiver when I ran my fingertips across the low of his back, his body respond.

"Come. We will return to Edoras. There, I will talk to Aragorn."

"Aragorn?"

"You are now known as Aragorn's younger sister. And yet I not know the bonding ritual of men." Legolas smiled. "It would be wise to involve him now."

Bonding ritual? The words sent my warmth and anxiety to a whole other level. Good and bad all at once. I decided to focus on the good side. Too much anxiety lately. "I'm his little sister in this world officially, aren't I?" Aragorn had to have known this would do more than buy me 'go anywhere' passes, I supposed.

Legolas nodded, grasping my hand, and we started back slowly. "It is known by all in Rohan, and soon, all over. Duty now. We will talk of it later." He squeezed my hand one last time, letting go, the warmth of the bond going with it.

He was right. It was time for duty again.

He froze though, glancing back, and held something out. "I forgot. This was found." It was a small parcel, wrapped in soft fabric, and I opened it slowly. The phone charger! I took it, checking it, not a scratch, nothing. Legolas smiled as I touched it. "So you may use your magic box for answers."

"Thank you!" The phone, I knew, would be in the bottom of my pack. I'd carried it everywhere, not quite being able to let it go, and I would find a way to charge it.

We came back to camp, finding everyone was more or less asleep, and quietly I followed Legolas to the horses. He stroked the neck of his, a white boy with dark grey dapples, who seemed to quiver with delight at every touch, ears flickering every time Legolas spoke in Elvish, like it understood. The sunshine broke out over the trees, already warm though it was low in the sky

"Does it understand you?"

Legolas nodded, smiling up at it, affection in his face as it nuzzled it. "Long have Elves and animals shared bonds."

"You talk to everything, trees, animals... rocks?"

"Only Dwarves talk to rocks." Legolas glanced backwards at me, amused, reaching out for my hand. He drew me closer and placed my hand on his horses neck. "See? How warm he feels in the sun? How content?"

I didn't blame him. I stood there, hand on his neck, feeling the muscles twitch, the warmth of his body, the smooth coat, his mane tickling my hand, with Legolas' hand on my back once again. I supposed I did, really, I kind of felt it. But was that my common sense? It _was_ good to be in the sun.

"I will teach you to speak as I do." Legolas said softly against my shoulder, moving closer, like he couldn't resist more touching. "The language of our people. You will see then."

Feet behind us made us separate slowly, Eomer standing up and stretching, more or less shirtless. My face went warm and I looked backwards to the horse. Funny, I was still so new to men, that even that innocent sight...

Not that it really mattered any more.

"We ride soon." Eomer moved up, tugging his shirt back on. "Are you both ready?"

More or less, except for a trip to the bathroom, I nodded.

"What about the food?" Pippin called, sleepy, and he blinked up at us from where he'd curled up under a blanket. Slowly he noticed me, he brightened, and scrambled to his feet. "Wenduin!"

"I was there yesterday too." I said, amused, as he flung himself at me for a hug that smelt faintly of meat and smoke. I noticed crumbs were on him.

"We didn't meant to leave you in the forest." Pippin stood back, gazing up. "Sorry." He meant it too. "We told Gandalf you were with us. He said you'd find a way out."

"I did." I smiled at him. Out of everyone, I was surprised by how happy I was to see Pippin and Merry, and didn't even care that they'd eaten my dinner.

"Here." Boromir jogged back, thrusting a small canvas bag at myself and Legolas. "These can be eaten as you ride, as someone ate your food." He gave Pippin a dirty look, who had conveniently decided to roll up his blanket.

I hurried off too, quickly doing the toilet thing before too many were up and wandering around, and came back to find that the camp was more or less packed up, my horse re-saddled, and Legolas waiting to help me up.

"I will teach you this too." He promised softly, as Theodan came out of the bushes. "Many things. When this war is over, you will be shown a world few have seen."

I watched as the others mounted, things packed onto horses, my horse shifting backwards and forwards restlessly. It was just a minute or two before Theodan was mounting, Eomor leaping onto his horse, and Theodan calling, "We will ride now. Is everyone here?"

When everyone clearly was, Merry and Pippin behind Eomer and Aragorn, Gimli behind Legolas, Theodan nodded, and led the way.

We flew to Edoras, or it felt it, galloping across plain and slope, across hills, hair flying, clothes flying, wind blinding, gusts of wind chasing us as if it was helping propel us forward. I ate, every now and then, but mostly just hung on, as Tinkerbell chased after the others, hooves flying, clumps of ground flying behind her. We passed people, from time to time, travelling to Edoras.

As we came closer to Edoras itself, I saw her, Eowyn waiting on the edge of the hall. People must have left Helm's Deep as we had- the bodies entombed in the caves, maybe just a few left behind to clean up. Or would they wait until they could really repair it? Or was that the end? I wondered about that, as I followed Aragorn up the path to Edoras, wondered how they'd use Helm's Deep now. It was a sobering thought though.

The second I got into the Hall, I wasn't allowed time to ponder OR ask Aragorn, because apparently they'd had enough 'girl in boy's clothing' culture shock with me. With the insistence and mild sympathy of Eowyn, I was herded into her personal room, and given soap, hot steaming water in a bowl, and a dress.

"For tonight, you may wear this." Eowyn offered a soft green dress, clearly well made, and held up a dress of her own. "And I this. Tonight we wear our finest cloth, and celebrate."

"So no pants."

Eowyn smiled somewhat then, shaking her head, agreeing. "No. You cannot wear them tonight."

When Eowyn looked at my pants and shirt, I could kind of see why that wasn't an option. They were filthy. They didn't smell, I hoped anyway, but they did have mud, and dirt, and grass, probably all flown up from Tinkerbell's not so dainty hooves. She was a massive horse and I was covered in mess.

"I will remain. We must talk." Eowyn turned away, her back to me, but clearly remaining. When she suddenly started to strip her own dress off I turned away in a hurry.

The words somehow gave me the chills but I couldn't remember why. I'd undressed in front of so many women in this place. It was weird. Now I did it again, slowly, uncomfortable, aware of how curvy I was compared to her. She had this lean figure, all muscle and bone. I grasped the soap and started to wash myself slowly, standing there, trying to not splash it on the wooden floor too much.

"You said I would marry someone."

Uh oh. Now I remembered. I blinked, freezing, staring back over my shoulder at her. She wasn't looking at me and I caught a glimpse of her body under a pale white shift, so I hurriedly looked back to my own washing water. "I ..."

"Have you offered me to him?"

"No!" I exclaimed, kind of surprised.

"But you have to his brother." She was almost accusing.

"No. Not to Boromir. I didn't offer you to anyone. It was just something I ...saw. A possibility of." I was half tempted to say I knew she liked Aragorn but I held back. Woops. Oh man. I wasn't sure how to deal with this problem. This wasn't something I wanted to change.

"You are half Elf. I heard Elf-kin see things. But I cannot accept such an arrangement. Not now." I felt a hand on my shoulder, flinching, as she came to stare at me. No anger, not really, just determination, and a kind of softness in her face as she continued, "For I have found the man I would marry. Had I been told this before your brother came to my Uncle's hall, I may have thought deeper, but now I find myself bound already. Already have I come to see you as a kind of sister."

"Sister?"

"The sister of the man I -" She turned away, suddenly, eyes dropping. It was a strange thing, to see Eowyn suddenly so vulnerable, but she still had this strength in her as she said it. "I am sure Faramir of Gondor is a noble man. But please tell Lord Boromir that I am not able to consider this offer."

"It wasn't an offer. It was just something I saw." I wished I'd kept my big mouth shut now. "There's always a lot of different possibilities in our futures, all kinds of things, and he made you very happy in one. That's all. I mean, Boromir was meant to die, and he's still clearly alive, so..." I felt my words almost trip over each other and I tried to slow down and relax. "In the one I saw, there was no arrangement, just ...the two of you finding each other. And being happy."

"It sounds a nice vision. I think I shall be happy though." She smiled, distant, and moved away, barely knowing or caring that she was walking around me near-naked. A woman in love. "I know it."

I seriously hoped I hadn't just screwed up Eowyn and Faramir. Neither of us spoke, we bathed and were dressed in those under-dresses that apparently went under the fancy dress, before I was made to sit down and one of Eowyn's maids did something with my hair. She got the same treatment and sat there, resigned, used to it. Happy even. Something in her mood had changed.

"You may stay here and rest." She said, when they were done, standing. "My maid will come in later and re-dress you."

I nodded.

There was a batch of sunlight in Eowyn's room, where a window had been opened into the late afternoon light, and I went to sit in it with the only chair in the room, the phone in the sunshine, barely paying attention to what else was going on.

Now that I was alone, and able to sit, I stared at the phone, only vaguely aware of it turning on.

Boromir hadn't done it.

Now that I thought about it, it had seemed... _weird_. All of it. His behaviour, the way I'd felt after, just the whole thing. And the timing. How the hell would there have been enough time? We were barely five minutes from the camp, tops, so if Legolas had been scouting, he wouldn't have been far. Even Aragorn might have heard something.

A door opened beside me and I glanced up to see Legolas, not a big shock, sliding in. He shut the door behind him and strode across the room to sit against the wall in front of me, sliding down, his legs extended and touching mine.

"Don't want a chair?" I teased softly, nudging him with a foot, as Legolas relaxed back. "For your delicate Elf Prince body?"

"Delicate?" He chuckled softly, shutting his eyes, and reached out to tug the chair closer to him so that his hands could reach my legs. "Do I act delicate?"

"Not with me." It was true too- the Elf was surprisingly … flexible. More than once I'd bitten him and he'd seemed to like it. I wondered, as I watched him rest in front of me, if this was a side of Elves that they hid. The more rough, impulsive, emotional side, the side of him where he seemed to loose his usual self-control and be controlled by his impulses. I'd only seen it in bed though. I reached out to touch his hair, still as perfect as ever, the sunshine already warming it. "Why are you here?"

"Gimli would like rest." Legolas explained. "For he intends on staying up late tonight. I was told to come and keep you company."

"You and him, are you good friends?" I hoped so.

Relief flooded me as he nodded, smiling, opening one eye to gaze up at me. "I have had few friends like him. He is ..." He almost seemed amused by his words, "...as a brother is."

"An Elf and a Dwarf. Why do they hate each other anyway? You guys seem to get along."

"There is much history and blood. Betrayal. Hurt. Arguments. Many things that have separated us." Legolas added, "I once believed that I would never wish to spend an hour with a Dwarf. Now, I find myself looking forward to the day I may travel with him and question all my life's hatred of their kind. The more he speaks of his kin, the more I find what I was taught was wrong." He drifted off, shutting his eye again, his hands still sliding up and down my calf.

I breathed out and relaxed, leaning back in my chair, my mind returning to drift as well. It was so easy to sit here and just be with him. Doing nothing. His hand made me want to sleep, to crawl down to sit beside him, and go back to sleep. I loved every second with him. I was so _at ease_ with him.

"I look forward to taking you home too, my love."

"To Mirkwood?"

"To my father."

Somehow these words caused my stomach to flip flop and not in the good 'Oh, Legolas said something beautiful' way. I tried to hide my tension from him. Tried and lasted a second. "Oh, yeah. Your father. What about Gimli? Travelling?"

"I have time."

Somehow this didn't seem right. I wasn't sure why, but it didn't. And Legolas was a Prince. "And your father's going to be fine with me being human?"

"In body."

I wanted to groan, or kick him, or something. Legolas' stubborn 'You're an Elf' was sweet, and ...well, who knew if he was right about the Elf spirit, or whatever, but physically I wasn't an Elf. I knew it. Anyone who could see Legolas and I side by side knew it. "Legolas..."

"It may take him time."

Time was something Elves had, I realised, time was something they had a lot of. It might take his father a very long time. How much time did I have? The problems with this union was starting to become really obvious. And... what about Gimli? Why did I have the feeling that I was coming between Legolas and Gimli in the future? "How long before you would go with Gimli?"

"Ten, twenty years, when you are able to come."

He said it so casually, like it was obvious, but again this answer somehow didn't feel right for me. I couldn't explain it. There were so many problems with Legolas' answer that I didn't know what to do or say. Tell him that if I aged like 'men', that in that time, I would be getting close to middle age? Or that he and Gimli were meant to travel alone? I knew that, somehow, I _felt_ it. His hand massaging my calf wasn't relaxing me now.

I suddenly wondered how fair this was to Legolas. How many years would I be able to give him? How would he react when I died? Death was something he struggled with, with compete strangers, how would he cope with his partner?

"Boromir is happier." Legolas said lightly. Trust him to know what to say to distract me.

"Good."

"He still regrets it."

I nodded faintly, staring down now, Legolas gazing up at me. "He shouldn't. I didn't blame him then when I thought it had happened. I'm just relieved that there's... you know, that no baby got caught up in it."

"No. There is no child for Boromir growing within you." Legolas reached up, his hand tracing its way up the inside of my leg, resting his palm on my lower stomach. He released his hand though, shut his eyes, and relaxed back against the wall, a tender smile slowly appearing on his face.

There was an increase in sound outside now, from the Hall, and the distinct scent of wood smoke. I knew we'd have to deal with this problem. The age problem, the royalty problem, the race problem, all those things. I didn't want to worry about them right now. There was too much stuff going on that involved swords and stuff.

"Big feast tonight?" I changed the subject and saw him relax. Yeah. He wasn't ready to deal with those problems either.

"Yes. There is much to celebrate."

I supposed so. It was a miracle anyone was here at all. I slid down to sit beside Legolas, lifting my phone into my lap, leaning against him as I started to flip through the photos of strangers once more.

"What is this?" He asked softly, reaching up to touch the touch screen, flinching as it responded to his touch.

"It's called a phone." I responded. "It contacts people who are far away."

"Is it safe?"

I nodded, resting my head on his shoulder again, closing the gallery on my phone. "It's safe." On impulse though, I lifted it, and took a photo of Legolas. It was kind of amusing to see him there on my phone. But it seemed ...to make this whole thing not real. I closed it quickly. It was funny how, even though I'd had the phone, I'd barely thought about it. Touched it. Was it strange that, even though it was one of my last links to my past, to whoever I'd loved, that I didn't find it interesting?

Legolas sat up a little straighter and a minute later a woman entered. She stared at him with the same awe that he seemed to generate everywhere before she said, hesitant, "My Lady must dress."

Legolas nodded, standing, and moved away to leave me to my fate.


	11. Celebration!

Dress. Lace. I stood there, demure as I was laced and dressed, combed, perfumed with something, Eowyn appearing halfway to have her own hair twisted back under a gold circlet. Nothing fancy, to my relief, and when we were rushed into the hall, I found out why. Everyone was already there. We were late.

I slid down to sit between Legolas and Pippin, accepting a mug of ale, and glanced around. No one drank yet. They were all looking forward to King Theodan and Eowyn.

She was moving forward, head bowed, offering him a goblet. Oh yeah. Kings drank first.

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" I called, along with the others, standing arm-to-arm beside Legolas, Gimli on his other side. I hesitated, staring into the drink, before I gave up and drank it. One drink wasn't going to harm me much.

The hall was crowded, literally packed with men, women and children, wounded and well, almost all the survivors of Helm's Deep, or the family of those, and outside there were more. When I'd passed the doors to the hall I'd seen other buildings with swarms of people. Tonight, everyone was celebrating. Food was passed around freely, a feast's worth, great barrels of ale and beer opened or stacked ready. To my amusement, Legolas was back in his fine silver tunic, and Gimli appeared to have combed his beard. Or attempted to.

Boromir grinned at me, tension long gone, before he'd slipped off with his mug of ale in one hand and a pretty red head in the other, heading straight for where a group of people had started playing music. More mugs were passed around, drink flowing freely, people dancing, drinking, laughing.

A kid slid under his mother's arm and headed straight for Legolas. "Is it true you live in trees?"

"Come back here!" The mother grasped for him, embarrassed, the boy sidestepping her.

Actually, I liked the question, and Legolas didn't seem insulted. As Gimli moved away, Legolas knelt down until he was at the boy's height. "We live in Hall, much as your kin do, but both underground and in trees."

The boy seemed impressed. His mother didn't. She dragged him away, Legolas standing, turning to me. He grasped my hand, lifting it to kiss it, advancing closer on me.

"Underground?" I asked, as he advanced to me, suddenly painfully aware that he wasn't hiding his affection, that people were looking, and suddenly I felt really embarrassed too. Okay. He was only holding my hand. Only kissed it. I smiled weakly, one of his arms around my waist, trying, "Don't you miss the sky?"

"We do not spend all our time in the Halls." Legolas ignored the stares, ignored everyone, I found him moving with me, dancing, just a slow movement. "Do not be ashamed of us."

"I'm not ashamed." I muttered. I was still painfully aware of the attention though. Aragorn, Gimli, even Boromir, I could handle. Pippin and Merry, I knew they'd laugh, but I liked them. This entire Hall full of people. Hundreds of people. I felt totally self-concious all of a sudden and wanted to go hide in some quiet place. Afraid that they'd be judging me. Making fun of me. Saying stuff like 'She's too fat/human.'

How hard would it be when I was with his own people in Mirkwood?

Legolas bent down, brushing my hair aside, kissing my shoulder, before releasing me. "I do not live in the Hall of my father. I live near it. It is much like Rivendel, in some ways, with the sky open to the great doors of the Hall. You will see."

"On your own?"

He shook his head, hand still clasping mine, as we turned to watch the others. "With my sister. When you come, you will live with us. My brother lives in the hall with my father."

I nodded, finding myself standing closer to him despite my nerves, the growing reality of this relationship starting to really dawn on me. Some part of me was starting to long for a casual thing. Starting to feel the culture shock. I longed to hide in Gondor suddenly. I suspected it'd be easier. "Legolas, you do know that your people might not accept me, right?"

He flinched, something passing across his face, but it was gone too fast before I could catch it. Legolas spoke, quietly, carefully, "I expect some may not. But I feel I do not need to worry for yo-"

"Legolas!" Gimli called, gesturing, cutting him off. Legolas visibly relaxed at the sight of his friend, who was charging through the thronging mess of half-drunk Rohirrims, a mug of ale in his hand.

"Do not worry. The love of an Elf is not something we take lightly." He smiled at me, kissed the back of my hand, and moved forward through the crowd, pulling me along behind.

Gimli led us to where men were crowding, already laughing, several barrels opened and mugs everywhere. "I have wagered with Eomer."

"A wager?" Legolas drank the drink, slow but steady, and placed the mug aside. "On what?"

Gimli slammed down a mug, a wicked grin, Eomer coming to rest against the pillar beside us. "Who lasts longer. Boromir?"

"Gives his regrets, but is busy." Eomer seemed amused, glancing over his shoulder, at Boromir dancing. Not with the red head but with a different woman this time. He met my eyes, half amused now. "Are you joining?"

"I'll stick to one." I answered quickly. I already knew where this was going and I knew it wasn't going to look pretty. "This is between the Elf and the Dwarf."

Eomer nodded and reached out to offer a mug to Legolas. "No pauses. No spills."

"And no regurgitation." Gimli added, resting back.

Attention was on us now, half-drunk men were crowding around to watch, laughing. I didn't feel that threatened though. I felt kind of safe in this place somehow. Eomer moved aside, pushing a chair towards me, and I sat down. Could take a while, yeah.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas seemed to get it suddenly.

"Ai!" The men cheered, around us, ale flying as some mugs were crashed together. This was as much about their entertainment as Gimli's challenge, apparently.

"Last one standing wins." Gimli grinned and started to chug ale back, right down his beard and all, while Legolas hesitated. Met my eyes. I shrugged lightly and he started to drink slowly, eyebrows raised, though... he'd _known_ what a drinking game was. He was pretending to be new to this. I wondered if Elves had similar games?

Either way, he was playing innocent, so I decided to stay quiet.

"To victory!" The men cheered around us, drink flying, men going for barrels, laughter and loud conversations starting up again.

I sat there for five minutes, watching Gimli go for alcohol, Legolas continue his 'Polished perfect Elf hiving first drinking game act', until Aragorn came for me. I was relieved he did- by this point, Gimli was loudly declaring that the winner would get a kiss.

"You look lovely." He said, softly, drawing me aside to the side of the room. I blinked, staring down, forgetting that I was wearing a dress. No wonder why Eomer was more relaxed with me right now.

"You look pretty handsome too." I replied, honestly, even if he wasn't as fancy as half the people. Aragorn nodded, a warm smile there, leaning against the wall beside me.

"Legolas has asked me about rites for bonding."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what else to say. Aragorn's smile was still there but he seemed slightly more tense, suddenly, and my eyes involuntarily went to the necklace around his neck. That was right. Arwen. He'd chosen to let Arwen go. "You don't think this is a good idea."

"Do you?" He asked quietly. We watched Legolas and Gimli, on the other side of the room, surrounded by laughing, shouting men. Legolas looked as unearthly as ever in that crowd, in his silver tunic, like he didn't quite belong here.

"I don't know." I admitted with a quiet exhale.

"His kin are different to us. They love us, and they may do so, but their love kills them." The words were painful. Aragorn didn't say them to be cruel. He was honest. Sad, even, his eyes distant now. "As this land does. They all will leave."

"To the undying lands." I knew.

"I do not say this to be cruel, Wendy, but-" He turned to me, slowly, and I noticed he'd refused to use the Elvish word. "-I care for both of you. Legolas would not long survive your death out of love for you. You are mortal. Without you, he would live for thousands of years more."

"I know."

"I-" He reached for the Evenstar, even as he hesitated, pain etched on his face, hidden from the room by his hair. "I understand this decision."

"I know." I repeated, quiet, my mood fading. I knew he was right. I'd started to feel it. "I guess I didn't expect it to go this far." I didn't expect to fall in love with the stupid Elf either.

"Nor did I." Aragorn smiled sadly. "Perhaps we are more brother and sister than we realise."

"He wasn't supposed to spend the next part of his life with me anyway." I admitted, quietly, watching Legolas and Gimli. Gimli was getting drunker by the second, a dozen mugs falling to the ground as he swept his arm and demanded more, Legolas maybe on his sixth or seventh. "He was supposed to be with Gimli."

"Aye, I suspected."

"I don't want to change the things they'll do, even if I don't know what it is." My heart was already breaking. It was crazy. These feelings made no sense to me. I felt like my heart was already breaking. Like I'd already decided.

But I had, hadn't I? I'd only thought on this for five minutes and I'd already realised how this wasn't going to work. Legolas and I. We weren't going to work. I suddenly wanted to cry and drink. Either, and both, whichever. I felt Aragorn's arm come around my shoulder, and I leaned against him, his voice quiet in my ear.

"Sometimes, we must love someone so much, that we release them."

"Like a bird." I breathed out, throat starting to hurt, all my emotions crowding into it at once. "I have to let him go, don't I? For his future?"

He nodded, sighing, and we stood there some time. I didn't really want to stay around though. Celebrating suddenly wasn't that appealing.

"Do not think of it now." Aragorn said softly.

"Too late, really." I muttered, standing. I really wanted a girl. Eowyn. Where was she? She might ...understand? She was with other women, children, laughing, her face flushed with pleasure and alcohol. "I'm going to hang out with the women."

Aragorn nodded.

I sat with them, numb, staring into my food. I wasn't hungry again. The sad thing was that Aragorn was right, even if he hadn't said it outright, that I couldn't stay with Legolas, led alone marry the Elf. At some point he was meant to go off and ...well, who knew, do something with Gimli. For hundreds of years. I had, what, fifty years left? Sixty?

Legolas had thousands of years, if I left him alone, and marrying him was just going to more or less screw him.

"-as the one we drink in our hometown!" The song from the other side of the hall, Pippin and Merry dancing on the table, got my attention. That cheered me up. I stood up to watch, moving closer, passing Aragorn and Gandalf.

I stopped beside them, waiting to be told to leave, but Aragorn nodded to me and spoke softly to Gandalf.

"No news of Frodo?"

"No word. Nothing." Gandalf said quietly, his smile fading.

Aragorn met my eyes. "Have you had a vision?"

"I-" I wasn't sure how to explain it. I hesitated, aware of both Gandalf and Aragorn's attention weighing on me, trying to … what, trigger something? When I'd hit my head at the river, I'd remembered almost everything, but it was confusing. More imagery than anything. Yes, I'd seen the ring destroyed, but I also knew that things clearly could change around here. The only images I could get in my head right now was of Sam and Frodo with a camp-fire, with Gollum, and a river. It somehow didn't feel right, like it wasn't something happening right now, so I shrugged helplessly. "I guess I have got a vision of him but it's confused. I think it was a few days ago."

Gandalf seemed neither disappointed or reassuring, he seemed tired, sad, and stared ahead.

I tried, "Sorry, I really... it's a mess." My own heart sank. Things changed. Frodo was pretty tiny. There was even another of those Black Rider things now. What if, just by being here, I'd screwed him up?

""We have time. Every day, Frodo moves closer to Mordor." Aragorn insisted, his voice strong, meeting my eyes and Gandalf's eye.

" Do we know that?" Gandalf asked quietly.

"What does your heart tell you?" Aragorn met my eyes too.

"That Frodo is alive. Yes." Gandalf relaxed a little as he said the words, his smile returning, shoulders relaxing, gazing forward once more. "Yes, he's alive."

I tried to smile and relax. Okay. "Yeah. Okay. He's still going." I couldn't have changed it that badly. I hoped. I suddenly wondered though. Wondered if Boromir's survival had reached Faramir after all. If I'd maybe screwed something up. Doubt still tugged at the back of my head.

Boromir moved past, pausing to grab my hand, and I was more or less dragged into the throng of dancing laughing people, the smell of beer and alcohol, food, smoke, manoeuvred around as Boromir danced with me.

"Are you not happy?" He called over the noise, face cracked in a smile, every last bit of tension gone, the smell of the alcohol on his breath.

"What?"

"We have survived a battle-" Boromir jumped easily over a man, who'd stumbled and fell, not even pausing. "- no man should have survived!"

"I'm happy. I'm just worn out." I smiled weakly and watched as Legolas crossed the room towards us. He didn't seem anxious now, or suspicious of Boromir. It was amazing how quickly we'd let it go. The 'vision' we'd shared, the horrible version, was almost gone. I could barely remember it. It was like a nightmare, I only vaguely remembered the worst parts, and the rest was gone. "Have you found yourself a wife?"

"A wife! Woman, I am young, I am alive, I am not ready for such a thing!" Boromir laughed, winking at a woman who was passing, only to be hit around the head by a man I suspected was her husband. He more or less literally pushed me at Legolas with a silly bow. I wondered how much he'd drunk already. "My Lord, your betrothed."

Legolas grasped me easily, hands light on my waist, nodding as he smiled. He nodded towards a door, the one to outside, and I had to admit it was a good idea. I followed behind him through the crowd.

It was only outside and around the edge of the Hall that he let his mask drop somewhat, reaching up to rub his ears.

"Loud?"

Legolas nodded. He drew me closer, arm around my waist, and leaned against me in the cold night, eyes gazing out.

"I spoke to Aragorn-" The words slipped out. I didn't want them to. But there they were.

"I know. I heard." Legolas responded softly.

Of course he heard. And, of course, I felt no shock. Had I known he'd overhear it? I stared out across the plains, the full moon casting the silvery cold light over everything, a cold wind whipping around my dress and sending a cold breeze up my bare legs. "I don't know."

"I do not expect you to know." Legolas smiled down at me. "Not in these times. I have decided."

"But... is it true?" I lowered my voice as people passed by, a couple, laughing and swaying in the darkness. "I mean, do you shorten your life because of this?"

When he nodded, my heart sank, and I felt the weight of this start to crush me. It was selfish. Wasn't it? "I can't do that to you."

"It is not your choice." There was a flicker of something, sadness, but he squeezed my waist. "Do not decide yet."

"What about your travels with Gimli?"

"If they are meant to happen, they will." Legolas replied quietly. He tugged me back, the woman storming past, the man rushing after her and pleading. "Some things we cannot change. I know that I must go with Gimli for a time."

I suspected 'a time' translated to hundreds of years somehow. I knew, somehow, that they'd leave here one day. Gimli, the only Dwarf to go to the undying lands. Legolas would leave. "I don't want to change your future."

"You won't. I cannot explain it but I know. You will not change that much." There it was again, the sadness, but he smiled down at me in the darkness. "Some things you have already changed. You may decide to no longer love me, and yet, I have foreseen all that will come, and it will happen. I will walk the land with Gimli. I have not seen you with us. This, I cannot change now."

"You've seen stuff?"

He nodded, going quiet, breathing out slowly.

"Can't share?"

Legolas shook his head.

I somehow wasn't surprised. There were things I couldn't share either. I sighed quietly and gave up trying to avoid physical contact. The second I melted into his side, I felt his relief, and my own, as if I was sensing his emotional state. Probably impossible, I probably picked it up from the way his body relaxed, but it was interesting.

"Stay beside me. As long as you can." Legolas said quietly.

I couldn't say no. Aragorn might have. But I couldn't. I nodded, he grasped my head, and kissed me with this sweet and desperate affection, just briefly, before he stepped back.

"Come." Legolas grasped my hand. "Your room is small but I have asked for it to be warmed."

My room? I followed him back inside the hall, through a door, slipping past the celebrations still going strong. My 'room' was tiny, just really enough room for a bed, a chair, and a little brazier with the remains of a fire burning away, hot coals caught in the narrow metal at the bottom. There was a thin rug under the bed over the stones, a little window, and I noticed Legolas' bow, knives, his cloak and his usual tunic neatly piled up between the bed and the wall.

"Our room?" I asked softly. Nodded at his things.

"I will not sleep much. I do not need to." He nodded to the chair beside the window. "But some time I may sit with you till you sleep."

"I do need to sleep."

"I have accepted it. Do you dream?" He shut the door, locking it, and turned to me. Legolas slowly turned me around.

"I dream about my past. I just never remember it." I didn't back off as he started to unlace my dress, shivering as fingers traced my spine, lips kissing my back.

"Elves do not need sleep and so we envy those who can dream so frequently. Our sleep is rare. Dreams are treasured journeys that we see as sacred." He slipped his hands in the open back of my dress, wrapping his arms around my waist, leaning against me. "I would dream with you."

"How?"

"One day, my love, you will see me and you will know." He slid the dress off my shoulders, carefully folding it to one side, and I felt him tug off the loose under-dress in one quick yank, it pooling around my feet and ankles. I shivered, partly because of the cold, but also because he was tracing my side, fingers tickling me, kissing along my shoulder. "Are you cold?"

When I nodded, he nudged me towards the bed, and I turned to watch Legolas strip off his silver tunic, slowly unbuttoning it, that intense affection back. Love. It was love.

"I don't want to leave you." I admitted, quietly, as he stepped towards me slowly. "Or shorten your life."

"Do not think of it then." He moved towards me, dropping his tunic over his other belongings, pushing me onto my back on the cold bed. "We are alive."

We felt alive, I was sure of it, twisting and biting each other under the covers, Legolas letting go of his mask. It somehow felt different, stronger, his body pressed up against mine, and when he released, it was real... his body actually releasing, like a man, his body shaking with the effort, arms gripping me hard and pressing me against his chest, our hearts just inches from each other.

After, he stood up, face flushed with blood, trying to dress and re-do his hair slowly, and I tried to not laugh as he actually sat down and asked me to re-braid his hair.

"That important?"

"We should always loo-"

A song cut him off. I blinked, Legolas tensed, as an alien song drifted up from my pack beside the bed, wafting up, the sound completely wrong. Not of this world. Not even belonging here.

"_-t me up, lift me up  
Higher now ama  
Lift me up, lift me up  
Higher now ama_

Plain talking, plain talking,  
Making us bold  
So strung out and cold  
Feeling so old "

My phone! I felt myself grapple for it, sliding across the now warm bedding, my actions ...familiar, and yet strange to me, like I'd done this before, but it was some old habit I'd forgotten. Grasp the phone. Press 'answer' to accept video call from 'Boyfriend. Heart, heart, smiley face'.

"Where the fuck have you been, woman? Are you _naked_? You better not be cheating on me."

My boyfriend. Staring at me, seeing my naked shoulders and some of my cleavage, his face dark with anger. The phone was working, a video call, and … I suddenly felt like I was loosing my sanity.

Video call. Working. In Middle Earth. In _Edoras_! Four bars of reception.

It didn't matter that Legolas stood there, half naked, that I could smell him, or smell the cooling coals in the brazier, or feel the sharp cold of the air on my bare arms and shoulders. It didn't matter that I couldn't remember this boyfriend very much.

I felt like I was going crazy. And I didn't remember him. Well, I sort of did, and I sort of felt something. But right now most of it was related to 'What the hell is your problem?' type feelings.

"I-"

"We've been together for three years now. I put up with your 'I'm not ready for sex' bullshit, with oral only, I put up with your health problem, and now you let me think you're dead?" His anger burnt somehow. It hurt. I stared at this man, this gorgous man, and felt my old nature return.

He was beautiful. Sweet. He got angry sometimes, sure, but he loved me and he was with _me_! Me!

So why did I want to swear my head off at him?

Somehow I suspected this reaction wasn't going to be the one he was expecting. I stared at him, at this man who I apparently loved, caught in two minds. The first was me. Me, now, me who'd smashed blades into big nasty black blooded monsters... and the usual me, someone I barely remembered now, the one who felt insecure. Afraid of being hurt. Grateful to him for loving me when there were so many beautiful women out there, thinner, healthier...

Was I insecure?

The bed sunk, suddenly, and Legolas grabbed the phone. He looked furious.

"You cheating on me with him? After all I've done for you? After I waited for you to be ready for sex? To loose weight? Cheating on me with some kind of fail cospla-" The man's face was red with anger. Not pretty, I realised, not really. It was just fake.

Legolas flung it down, a knife in hand, almost ready to stab it. I grasped his arm in time as the phone hit the rug, battery fell out, Legolas' arm shaking under my grasp. "This thing is not safe."

"It is." I sounded flat, tired, and a trace of depression filtered in. But ...hang on. I lifted it up, pushing Legolas to one side, muttering, "Put your knife away," as I stared at it. Reception. Good. Hundreds of missed calls. Lots of phone messages. Emails? Thousands. Alerts kept popping up. Missed things.

How the hell did it have reception right now? In Rohan? In Edoras? I stared at Legolas, suddenly, grasping him tighter, half afraid he was just some illusion in my head. I felt mad suddenly. Like, this was a delusion, that he wasn't really here.

"You exist, right?"

Legolas b linked at me, tightened his grip on his knife, and tried to peel it out of my hands. "Let me destroy it."

"No, I... It's safe!" I was confused, I got up in a hurry, and the cold of the room made me remember quickly that I was still pretty naked. "But ...Gandalf." The word, the realisation of who I really needed to talk to, it somehow reassured me somewhat. Legolas wasn't doing much good. He was sitting there, white faced, and I was trembling with more than just cold. With what? Hurt? Anger? Confusion? Yep, that one for sure.

"I will help you dress and bring him." Legolas stood, sliding up, his hands sliding over me. In one quick sudden motion, he embraced me, leaning against me, adding softer, "I am real, my love. I am sorry. I did not expect any man to talk to his lover that way."

"He's not ..." The guy, my boyfriend, was something all right. Had been, anyway. Oral? I couldn't remember but... if I'd felt guilty, if I loved him, I probably would have tried. I felt sick again. "I don't know who I am anymore."

"You are a member of the Fellowship." Legolas released me, grasping my arms, before he bent down to gather up clothing. "You are a warrior. My lover."

"Those things, yeah, but what if you're all in my head?" Paranoia rose up again, I stepped into the cold fabric as he offered it, confused. I stared at the phone once more. Yep. Still working. It scared me. It shouldn't, I should have been glad to have a connection to the previous world, I should be ...I didn't know, calling people or something. But it scared me. When it started to ring again, I turned it off, and let Legolas re-lace up the dress.

"Come we will speak to Gandalf." Legolas was buttoning up his tunic once more, ignored his un-braided hair, and leading me outside, thrugh the crowd, to where Gandalf sat laughing and eating. He took one look at us though and stood, quickly, nodding to the quieter side room.

The side room was being prepared for sleepers. Mats were strewen around, blankets piled up in one corner, a fire already burning and warming the empty space. No one was ready for sleep yet apparently. Gandalf shut the door behind us and we were alone.

"My phone, it's working." I held it up, reluctently turning it on, though I really didn't want to.

"Your phone..."

"A connection to ...you know, that place I'm from. Somewhere else."

"Ah." Gandalf took it, slowly, as careful with it as he had been with that other big black ball thing. The man was wise, sure, but it was still obvious he had no clue what it was.

"It's for communiction. It's safe. But … Gandalf, it _shouldn't_ be working." Not unless there was some kind of ...mobile phone tower. On the top of a nearby mountain. Totally impossible.

"It threatens her sanity, Gandalf. She believes we're not real." Legolas muttered. His hand clasped on my shoulder, tighter than usual, standing closer.

"Of course she does. The veil between her world and our own once again grows thin." Gandalf frowned, lines on his face as he observed it, and while he might not have known what it was for, he didn't seem as afraid of it as Legolas had been. "There is more to your appearance than I believed."

"What do you mean?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer anymore.

"You were able to cross. Who's to say something could not cross the other way?" Gandalf ran his thumb over the screen, ignoring the movement it created, turning it over. "This is safe?"

"Well, yeah, it's just two people."

"So there cannot be any spies in the conversation?"

He seemed to be taking this well. I was confused until I saw his gaze head for the ...panther? Big black ball thing. It was still bundled up in his grey cloth. I remembered, remembered with a shock, that Middle Earth had already had something like this. Those things had been stones used for commication until one of them had been stolen. Two? Three? I didn't know the exact amount. The second they had though, others were listening in, and the commication was suddenly no longer safe.

"It's like those things, yeah." I mutterd, Gandalf's head jerking up to me, and added, "But I don't know if this can be traced." Except that there were a lot of phones. And who knew? Maybe Sauron could cut into these conversations. Maybe there was some magic-techology thing. I wasn't an expert on magic or ...radiowaves. "I don't know if it can be listened into from here. In our world, it can be, but you need special and illegal techlogy. Breaks all kinds of laws."

"I see." Gandalf frowned. "Then, you must destroy it."

"There's a way to hide it. Flight mode before you turn it off." I hoped, anyway. "People can't communicate with me then. It cuts off the radio waves... "

"Show me."

I took the phone, slowly, and hesitated. Another caller.

'_Mum_'.

"Wenduin..." Gandalf's voice was soft, even sympathetic. "We cannot risk this."

"I'm just afraid … you're not real." I muttered. I felt my heart break as I rejected the call and put it onto flight mode. I didn't remember mum. I didn't know her name, or her face, but …it still hurt. It turned off and I swallowed down a lump of emotion. Suddenly somehow I wanted to cry. "And if you're real, if this is real, then I've been gone from them for months."

"I understand." Gandalf took the phone once more. He slipped it away somewhere, some hidden pocket, reaching out to touch me. "I will return it when it is safe. You are here. There are more worlds than most know, Wenduin, and few cross between. It is a secret long held by the Elves and Wizards alike. Travel between is forbidden."

"When the ring is destroyed, I can contact them?"

"And return home."

He nodded, and I swallowed, shutting my eyes. Okay.

"This war could spread into Wenduin's world?" Legolas' voice cut in, after a few heavy silent seconds, his hand tightening once more on my shoulder.

I blinked at him, turning, and he didn't seem the least bit surprised to find out I wasn't from Middle Earth at all. "Did you know I wasn't from here?"

"Of course. I found you. Nothing that came with you belongs to this world." Legolas didn't even seem interested in it. Was 'other worlds' something not that unusual to Elves? Where was the undying lands anyway? "Gandalf."

"I believe so." Gandalf responded quietly, leaning against the wall, his white staff held in one tense hand. "We do not fight just for Middle Earth now."

I couldn't picture it. Sauron, in my world, with big elephants and Uruk Hai. But … we had weapons he probably drolled eye juices to get his hands on. "He can't get into my world. Bad news for everyone."

Gandalf nodded. He seemed concerned, if only a little, and seemed to have no answers for once. He only said, "The barriers broken have created problems unforseen..." and was cut off as a drunken Rohirrim was dragged into the room, semi-concious, probably the first of many men who'd need to sleep it off in here tonight.

"You haven't eaten." Gandalf's voice was suddenly lighter. He smiled. "Leave this with me. Take some food, enjoy a good night's sleep, and enjoy good company."

It was something of an order, though he'd said it lightly and with a smile, so I reluctently followed Legolas out. We both got food, whatever we could get our hands on, before we returned to my little room and sat on the bed side by side.

Legolas didn't speak.

I didn't speak.

We just ate.

"That is your lover?" Legolas muttered, suddenly, breaking the silence. Anger flashed over his face, quickly masked by the usual 'calm special Elf' look, but I'd seen it. My 'boyfriend' had really pissed him off.

"Was." I was kind of surprised by my own conviction . "I don't think … I don't really remember him anyway. After that, with or without you, he'd be toast. Dumped. It'd be over."

Legolas nodded, staring ahead, lost for 'common' words. He muttered something in Elvish and I was sure it wasn't 'Seemed like a nice young man'.

"Not impressed?"

"I do not understand why you ..." He dropped his spoon into the soup and resumed eating, hair in his face, reminding me that he'd wanted it braided.

Putting my bowl aside, I slid closer, and slowly started to run my fingers through his hair. Legolas shut his eyes and leaned against me at the contact. "I don't either. I think ...I felt like I didn't deserve him. I didn't understand why he wanted me."

Legolas ran his hand up my side, slowly, as I braided a tiny neat braid down the side of his face. He slid his food to one side and kissed my shoulder. "I do."

"I don't really want to think about it." I muttered. "Okay?"

"O...kay." The word sounded wrong and Legolas laughed. "I will not speak of it."

I smiled weakly, twisting around to re-braid the other side of his hair, trying to relax. Okay. If I couldn't call my mum, whoever she was, at least she knew I was alive now. She might be angry, she might think I was with some guy, but she knew I was alive. That was good. That soon to be ex-boyfriend could ram his threats up his bum. He was a jerk and I really didn't understand why I'd dated him. Or done that to him. Ew.

A hand slid up my back, untying the laces once more, Legolas standing and bending over me so his arms could wrap around me.

"Go to sleep." He murmered against my neck. "And rest."

"I'm not that tired." In some ways I was though. I was exhausted. I felt his lips press against my neck, throat, again and again, as he pulled the dress down, shutting my eyes. When I was lifted and lowered into bed, a hand stroking across my back, I breathed out slowly.

Fingers ran through my hair, I suspected he was braiding it, but it felt amazing. Slowly I fell asleep, encoraged by the feeling of Legolas' slender fingers through my hair, anxiety slipping away.


	12. Fleeing

Occasionally that night I was woken, by drunken people crashing past the door, by laughter, music, but as the night went on the strong ale did its work. Legolas only left when it got quiet, I woke up to watch him slip out the door with his cloak back on, he'd probably been paranoid about leaving me alone with drunk people. I went back to sleep. Hadn't been that concerned to begin with.

It was still dark when I woke, something heavy climbing onto me, and I thought it was Legolas for a moment, as it was male. A tiny candle burnt close by. That was new.

A hand clasped over my mouth, a knee between my legs and the other, as I blinked sleepily up into the dark, feeling long hair tickling my neck as he bent over me. It scared me, I wasn't sure who it was, until I felt lips crush mine in the dar, a braid across one part of my face.

"L..."

Legolas cut me off with another kiss, a palm stroking my face as his body moved against mine, his other arm keeping him propped up. He smiled at me in the dark as he slid back. "Stand and dress. There is a problem. Gandalf requires us."

"So you tease me with that kiss?" I whined, softly, too sleepy to hide it. Later I'd be annoyed at myself for it. Right now, I had just been given a toe curling kiss, and Legolas was sliding backwards. Skin to skin contact was being denied. "Come on, Leggy."

"My love, I woke you in the easiest way I knew." He was lifting my dress. I saw it, in the dark, this reflection of light fabric in the dim candlelight. But it wasn't my dress. It was my usual leggings slash tunic thing. Armour. Boy, was I relieved to be able to put this on instead.

I tried to think, groggy, mind still lost in some dream about an exam. "What kind of problem?"

"Do you not already know?"

The Elf was infurating. If I had known, why the hell would I ask? But when I reluctently swung my legs into the cold of the room I woke enough to kind of get it. Kind of remember. Feet hit the cold stone? It more or less woke me up. Pippin screaming. Some ball of fire in his hands. Aragorn falling, Legolas catching him, and something about a fool. But a ball on fire? That couldn't be right. "Is Pippin okay?"

"He is-" Legolas hesitated. "-he is shaken. But alive. I believe Gandalf would have you talk to him when we have all spoken as the hobbit is fond of you. You may help him return to sleep. Merry sits with him already."

Okay, _now_ I did hurry, because I was kind of 'fond' of the little man in return. Didn't even ask for leggings, I just tugged the clothing on, let Legolas help with the thin leather straps, and tugged on the boots. They were new, felt good, felt like a better size than the last pair. "He's not burnt? I didn't hear a thing."

"There are many stone walls between your chamber and where he slept and you slept deeply." Legolas added quickly, "He is not burnt. His mind is ..."

"Shocked?" At his blank look I wondered if 'shocked' was a word here. "I mean, he's ...um. Tramatized? His mind is not ...happy." Lame idea.

Legolas seemed lost for words to explain it too though. He muttered, "I would call it-" and threw in some Elvish, "- but have no words for it in the common tongue of man. Aragorn would explain better."

He grasped my hand, kissing my palm, and blew out the candle. Darkness flooded the room and I was tugged behind him, through the dark doorway, and hallways, finding myself having to trust the elf's senses. Elf night vision to add to magic Elf stuff. Okay. That was nice.

We came into the main hall. This room was not dim, it was brightly lit, a fire burning in the middle pit, clearly new as the wood was barely blackened. Aragorn glanced up as I cringed in the brightness, smiling only a fraction, nodding to us.

"Theodan King comes soon." He informed us softly.

"How is Pip?"

"Eating." Aragorn's lip twitched at the word. "It seems to comfort him more than anything else."

Of course it did. I sat down beside Gimli, who looked a bit red faced still, a bit glazed in his eyes, clearly not sobar. I was sure I'd heard somewhere that you were usually a bit drunk the morning after, as sleep slowed the removal of alcohol, or something like that. He was probably struggling to stay awake still then. He had several large mugs of water beside him, one half empty, and nodded to me.

Eomer strode in. He looked pretty fresh for a man who'd been drinking and celebrating. Maybe he hadn't drunk much, I wasn't sure, I couldn't really remember seeing him drink.

Theodan took a little more time to join us, his face still damp, a little pale and tired looking, but more or less awake. Gandalf was perfect. Magic Gandalf and Magic Legolas, the two perfect beings in the Fellowship. I shook off the thought- being tired always made me kind of weird and jealous about the stupidest things.

An arm brushed across my side, and though I didn't see him, I knew who it was. Legolas. I felt a shiver run down my spine and resisted the urge to lean against him, or hold his hand, or iniciate some kind of physical contact. What was with him right now? He kept teasing me.

Okay. Maybe it was just me.

When Theodan had drunk water and a little food, we got down to business, Gandalf went for Pippin and Merry. Once Gandalf had briefly explained what had happened, Gimli tensing as if he had only heard this for the first time, Pippin was made to repeat what he'd seen.

"I saw..." His voice was already shaking, his face already loosing a little color, but a glance to Gandalf and Merry seemed to help. Pippin said quietly, "I saw him. A great flaming eye. He wanted my name. I saw... a tree. I did not speak of Frodo or the ring."

"Are you certain?" Theodan said softly, intense concern across his face, and even a little mistrust.

"I spoke to him immediantly." Gandalf responded softly. He glanced up towards the doors, Gamling coming in through the main Hall's doors, early morning sunlight coming in behind him. "There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the ring."

Gimli sighed with relief beside me and grasped the last mug of water, drowning it, half of it lost in his beard. Probably a good thing given how badly he smelt of alcohol.

"We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith." Gandalf's eyes swept across all of us, pausing with Aragorn, "His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the Heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still. Strength enough, perhaps, to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner."

I wondered if it was the largest city of Middle Earth. Or the closest to Mordor. Wasn't it obvious? Maybe not.

" He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne of men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit Rohan must be ready for war." Gandalf's eyes had left Aragorn now and he returned his gaze to Theodan.

The pause Theodan took to reply felt like much longer than it really was, the air heavy with tension, and when he spoke, my heart sank. "Tell me! Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

Seriously?

Aragorn exclaimed with a quiet strength, even urgency, "I will go."

"No!" Gandalf cut him off, quickly squashing that idea, Aragorn stiffening and sitting up straighter.

"They must be warned!"

"They will be." Gandalf reassured him. He strode closer, speaking softly to Aragorn alone, something that Aragorn didn't seem to understand. When he spoke loud enough for us all, his eyes were already distant, like he was already leaving us for Minas Tirith. " Understand this, things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith-" His eyes met Pippin, who tensed, "-and I won't be going alone."

Merry sat up straighter at that, frowning, Gandalf's gaze on Pippin just a fraction longer than normal. Then he headed for the two of them.

"Come, hurry. To the stables." He lifted Pippin up to his feet and his eyes met Theoden's eyes. "We will not wait."

Theodan nodded, a sharp tense nod, and turned around to mutter something to Gamling.

When Merry followed, Gandalf did not tell him to back off, though I knew it would only be Pippin. Maybe it wasn't as obvious as I thought. Maybe it was. I stood up wondering if I should follow. Gandalf glanced back, just as he was leaving, meeting my eyes.

I knew I was meant to follow. He didn't say it but … the old wizard seemed to know how to say stuff without actually saying it. Pippin knew he was in deep shit. I knew I had to ...well, follow. Okay.

I followed quickly down the steps, finding it easier in the early morning light, Gandalf, Merry and Pippin a few metres ahead of me as they rushed towards the stables. I heard Legolas behind me.

"What about breakfast?" I heard Pippin ask, though for once his heart didn't really seem in it, he was just inches behind Gandalf.

"Of all the Hobbits, Peregrin Took, you are the worst! Hurry! Hurry!" Gandalf didn't even bother. He sounded frustrated and angry, rushing, in such a haste that surprised even me.

"Where are we going?" Pippin called.

"Why did you look? Why do you always have to look?" Merry clearly got it. I kind of did too, even if my memory of this was hazy, something to do with ...well, leaving. To Gondor. Something about 'three days'.

_Was_ I supposed to follow? Did I get it wrong? Uncertintaty dogged at me, Legolas wasn't behind me now, but I continued with the other three into the stables anyway, as Pippin and Merry continued to argue behind Gandalf. Horses stared at us, a unsteady stablehand staring at us with the red-eyed look of someone still very hungover or still somewhat drunk. He didn't look like he had the energy to ask. Merry and Pippin were still lagging behind, somewhere outside, their voices trailing in.

"I don't know, I can't help it!"

"You never can!"

"I'm sorry, alright? I won't do it again."

Gandalf pulled Shadowfax out and his eyes met mine. To my relief I realised I was meant to be here, he didn't seem the least bit surprised to see me there as well, and he pursed his lips with clear irration and worry.

"Don't you understand? The enemy thinks you have the ring! He is going to be looking for you Pip. They have to get you out of here." Merry's voice echoed around the stables as they finally reached them. He didn't even notice that he'd startled one of the horses.

"And you? You're coming with me?" Pippin went stiff as Merry didn't answer, as Merry took a step back, understanding finally dawning in his face. Merry had gotten it straight away.

Gandalf's brow furrowed deeper, he and Merry catching each others eye for a moment, and Merry started forward, tugging at Pippin.

"Come on."

Something was shoved onto my arm, Legolas there suddenly, the bow and arrows being strapped to my back. I blinked at him, confused, as he pushed the pack at me.

"Legolas, what are you doing?"

"You're coming too." Legoals said softly. He was dressed. I stared at him, all dressed properly, his bow in the 'travelling' position, all his newly created arrows stuffed there. "As am I."

"_What_!" This was not in the plan. This was not how it went. Now it was me to startle the horses, Pippin staring at us, his mind trying to put this together. "No, you're... and I'm not either!" Was this why I was supposed to come to the stables? "But, no. No, this is just..." I couldn't even figure out how to put my words together. When I stared at Gandalf for help, I only saw acceptance, like this was something he'd somehow telepathically arranged. "No, this isn't -"

Gandalf, although clearly in a rush, somehow managed to sound calm as he cut me off. "You too have possibly been seen. There is information you have also."

"But-" Oh god, there were so many things wrong with this, and I didn't know where to start as I was physically lifted onto the back of Tinkerbell. "But... your horse is one of those special ones, and this is normal, so we'd be slow, and Legolas." I didn't want to go either. "But they don't know I'm here."

"We don't know that. Gandalf is right to suspect your..." Legoals frowned. _"..._that object you use to communicate."

"If the Nazgûl come for you here, you endanger all Edoras." Gandalf seemed pretty much decided in this. "Your horse will obay Shadowfax."

"I don't even remember anything!" And keep up how long? "I don't want to kill poor Tinkerbell running!" My protests had distracted Pippin and Merry, even as Pippin was lifted onto a horse too. Fuck. I wanted to swear, I wanted to swear so long and loud that I woke up all Edoras, because right now I KNEW I was screwing up this entire world somehow. Legolas was mounting behind me, or tried to, I shoved him off with a well placed elbow in the stomach. "No, you can't come! You're meant to go with Gimli and Aragorn!"

From the looks on their faces, I knew they thought I was being childish, but desperation was filling me. I wasn't just screwing up the way things were supposed to go. I was destroying that famous Gimli and Legolas relationship.

"What you can remember now, and what you remember under torture, Wenduin, is two different things." Gandalf was mounting. "Legolas _must_ come, for we may need him, for I cannot protect you and Pippin. Boromir remains with Aragorn."

"Merry too, right?" Pippin pipped up. Gandalf was restless, Shadowfax dancing on the spot,Legolas tried to mount again, and I jabbed him back down. Where was Boromir when I needed him to be useful?

"Gandalf, no, he can't come." I tried to stress the word, tried to do that magic telepathic communucation thing, meeting the old wizard's eyes. "He literally _can't_. I can't change that."

Gandalf didn't answer. His brow furrowed once more as he met my eyes.

"Merry?"

"Boromir cannot come."

Where was Boromir anyway? I hadn't seen him at the meeting.

Legolas waited, stress on his face now, and suddenly I did want him to come. I knew he shouldn't. I knew he had stuff to do somewhere else. But the selfish urge … it was rising up once more. To have him with me in Minas... place. To have him riding this horse with me. Just to have him beside me.

Luckily, Gandalf must have got my message, he nodded, gesturing at Legolas. Legolas suddenly stepped away, distress flashing across his face a moment. He didn't want to leave my side either. It broke my heart and sent a rush of relief through me all at once. I couldn't take him from Gimli right now. I'd screwed up this world enough just by being here.

He shoved a package of food, lembas he must have been hording, and a water skin into my pack, and Legolas reached up to unbuckle his knives, shoving one of the shethed knives into my hand. "You will need it."

He was giving me one of his father's knives. I blinked at it, Legolas taking it, strapping it to my belt. I stared at him. The words 'come with us' were at the back of my mouth.

"How far is Minas Tirith?"

Gandalf was back to action mode, clearly, Shadowfax rearing a tiny rear as Gandalf straightened, grip hard on the staff. "Three days ride as the Nazgûl flies. And you'd better hope we don't have one of those on our tail."

"Here, something for the road." Merry shoved a little package at Pippin.

Legolas was still grasping one of my hands, the other hand grasping Tinkerbell's rein, speaking to Tinkerbell in that soft musical Elvish. I hoped it wasn't something terrible like 'run till you drop'.

"The last of the Longbottom Leaf?" Pippin exclaimed beside me.

"I know you've run out. You smoke too much Pippin."

"But we'll see each other soon." Pippin glanced back at Gandalf. He still didn't get it. "Wont we?"

"I don't know!" Merry was backing up, Legolas was backing up, and I swallowed, upset, anxious, knowing that I wasn't meant to be here. "I don't know what will happen!"

God, let me survive this. Everyone.

"Merry?"

"_Darband, elninhun... elhervess_." Somehow those words from Legolas seemed different. His grey eyes bored into mine, hooking into me, as Gandalf spoke beside me.

"Run, Shadowfax, Tinkerbell, show us the meaning of haste."

Both horses surged out of the stables, faster than I could believe, and all I could do was hang on with my legs, almost blinded by the wind, Pippin's shout to Merry echoing in my head.

It was hard to believe- that we were really leaving the others. Okay, yes, somehow Gandalf and Pippin didn't shock me. My fast depature, as I tried to stare back at Edoras, shocked me. I hadn't realised this was what Gandalf would want to do once he'd found out about the phone. It probably made sense, that palan... thing, it was like a phone in the whole communication aspect.

Of course some part of me wanted to wheel the horse around and go straight back, as I saw Legolas standing at the edge of the Great Hall, his distant form as obvious to me as if someone had pointed a great big red arrow to him.

We rode hard, away from Edoras, away from the others, wind whipping in my hair, Shadowfax moving faster than I would believe was possible for a horse. Tinkerbell too, though I wondered if this would kill her, her hooves flying across the ground.

Three days. It was a _three day ride_. How was I going to do this? Pippin had Gandalf. He could be there, fall asleep, wake up, and Gandalf would probably be like a rock on Shadowfax not letting the hobbit fall. I would fall under sharp hooves if I slept. If we stopped, if they were really going to chase Pippin, that'd be my fault too.

This was a mess.

_This_ was probably why Gandalf had intended for Legolas to come with me. I didn't know how I'd stay awake for three days, didn't know how Tinkerbell would keep going, and Legolas probably did have some magic Elf thing to do with energy and horses.

Thud, thud, thud, her mane tickling my hands, half blinded by hair, I tried to not freak out at this big obvious problem. Yes, I knew he should remain behind, I knew he wasn't suppsed to come to Gondor.

Stupid. Stupid. Shouldn't have said anything. What was the worst that could happen if he had? I didn't know, I didn't remember enough to know, and when I tried to dig into the 'memories of Middle earth aka things that are supposed to happen' part of my brain all I could get was giant slingshots on the edge of a wall, throwing giant pieces of rock at orc, and that was about it. It had nothing to do with Legolas as far as I knew. Maybe it did. Galadriel's face flashed across my mind, a memory of the way she'd looked as we'd left, and I tried to focus on hanging onto the horse instead of getting anxious about my head.

Edoras was gone fairly fast though. Faster than I would have expected. Before I knew it, we were scaling up a long slope, both horses speeding so fast that it seemed impossible, Tinkerbell's fur damp with sweat under my legs, soaking them. Or was that my sweat? The sun was causing me to crave food and water like nothing else. I was afraid that if I moved I'd loose balance and fall off. Falling off, as the horses rode like this, would probably break something big time.

To my shock, the second we reached a cliff, we stopped. I almost went over the front of the horse.

Gandalf was dismounting, lifting Pippin off the horse, and reached over to help me.

"Um. We're not riding through the night?"

"We ride only at night to avoid being seen." Gandalf responded, taking Tinkerbell's reins, and leading her behind him. He was heading for a thick scrub which turned out to be in front of a gap in a small cliff. Not really deep enough to be a cave, exactly, but it was pretty concealed. "So you must both rest well."

Pippin nodded and remained quiet, face still white and shiny with sweat, his curls clinging to his damp forehead.

This was kind of surprising to me. I didn't argue though. There was a sense of urgency in Gandalf's voice when he'd answered me, and even now he glanced over his shoulder at the sky, uneasy about whatever might be seeking us.

Sitting in the little nook in the side of the cliff, I watched as Gandalf stood in the widest spot, his back to us and presumably his eyes scanning the sky for those flying things. Pippin sighed, a soft sigh, and I turned to him, expecting him to say something.

He didn't.

He seemed stared ahead to his knees, occasionally sipping from the tiny flask of water, the packet of pipeweed untouched in his pocket. Not sad, exactly, but quieter than I'd ever known. Even with the Uruk Hai he hadn't been able to resist speaking.

I didn't know what to say though. I wished I did- I wished I knew how to say the perfect thing right now, how to relate to him, to be perfect, but I had no clue what to say. I just felt awkward. Sad for him. As the hours dragged on, all three of us quiet, with only the horses making soft snuffling noises, I would sometimes open my mouth to say something and then change my mind. I'd close my mouth or pretend to yawn, if Pippin glanced up to me, trying to nap on the edge of the cliff.

It was not fun.

Pippin did sleep. Either that, or he was sitting still with his eyes shut, and given how quiet he was when he'd clearly been awake, it might have just been that he was trying. I was struggling, sliding in and out of sleep, unable to really make myself get into that.

As the afternoon dragged on, as the light darkened and a light rain started, I drew out Legolas' knife and held it in the dim light.

Somehow I was aware that for him, seperating his knives, it wasn't a small thing. They were identical, silver and white, crossed on his back most of the time. Were they knives or daggers? Probably daggers. On one side there were vines but on the other, in very fine writing, lay Elvish script in the curved blade. It was a pale gold like the handles, and I wished I knew what it said. It was clearly more than a regular dagger. Clearly well made, beautiful, this deadly piece of artwork that could probably cut bone.

"That is no small gift." Gandalf's voice cut into my thoughts.

"Do you know what it says?"

"I could read it. Yet, I believe those words are for your eyes." Gandalf came to sit down close to us, voice soft, eyes avoiding the writing on the blade.

"He had these long before he knew me." I muttered. But his words about seeing me since he'd matured, or whatever his exact words had been, rose in my head as I stared at it. "He's a Prince, isn't he?" Even now the title didn't suit him. I wasn't sure why. But the title itself bothered me.

"Yes, in a sense." Gandalf responded.

I didn't ask anything else. His answer, although kind of criptic, was reminding me that this thing may not work. I wasn't really willing to deal with it. Somehow I was suddenly glad to be away from Legolas. To think, without his presense distracting me, tempting me, without my hormones adding to my feelings. This was complicated. I met the old wizard's eyes as I said quietly, "Um. Do you think... what we're doing... is it smart?"

He seemed surprised, but there was warmth suddenly in his face, a shadow of it under the tension. "You do not mean this ride, do you?" When I shrugged, he leaned back, and breathed out slowly. "The love between mortal and immortal is not a new story. Nor is it the choice of one alone. Try and rest." Gandalf shifted on the ground. "It is a long ride ahead."

I nodded and shut my eyes. Not the choice of one alone. Sacrifice.

When I woke, it was to the smell of hot bread, and to the welcoming sight of Pippin eating. Not much- it looked like Gandalf had just reduced a branch to hot coals with his wizardy goodness- but toast was toast and I ate what was offered. The lembas Legolas had given me could easily be saved for another time. Who knew when I'd need to rely on it.

Once eaten, it was dark, that light drizzle of rain back again, though it came and went, the stars showing easily through the thin cloud. Even the moon was there, lighting up the world somewhat, Gandalf's eyes going to it as his brow furrowed once more.

"We ride quickly." He lifted Pippin up, and mounted, and I quickly did the same with some effort. Hood up, cloak over me to protect me from the rain, and we were suddenly galloping again full pelt, the silvery-white shape of Shadowfax leading me and Tinkerbell.

It was unnerving riding in the dark like this, frightening even, because I could barely see the ground and had to trust that my big dark grey horse knew what she was doing. She, in return, was shadowing Shadowfax and her ears were back, so I guessed she wasn't keen on it either. But somehow she was again keeping up with Shadowfax. Sleep suddenly seemed stupid- we were on giant horses, charging through the dark in a land that went up and down, how could my adrenaline ever let me sleep again after this?

On top of that, Gandalf kept glancing up, and it scared me. Was I slowing htem down? Were we being chased?

He stopped, stopped so suddenly that Tinkerbell took some metres to slow and to twist around, her body trembling and damp with the fine rain. I didn't see why straight away. When I did, I swore softly, and tried to get Tinkerbell to charge at the idiot. Knock him down. Bruise his pretty Gondor face with the hooves. He was frozen just feet away on the back of a tired looking horse.

I did NOT save Boromir's life for him to risk screwing up Faramir's chance.

Boromir stared back at us, face roughened with the faint hair of a man who hadn't shaved for a day or two, his light illumionated in the dark and the light of Gandalf's staff. He looked tired, unhappy, and he was gritting his teeth together, probably already pulling together an arguement.

"You should not be here." Gandalf spoke. His voice scared me. But Boromir did not back down.

"I dreamed of my father." His eyes were in mine now, devestation back in them, that almost-madness there. "That I would not see him alive again if I did not return now. That he drives men of Gondor to their deaths. Did you know, Wenduin?" Devestation, even betrayal was there, as he stood there soaked to the bone. He must have been walking all day. It shocked me. Even now, even after all his father had tried to do, Boromir still loved him.

"Yeah. But-" I added quickly, as hurt flashed across his face, "But this is for Faramir. He needs-"

"To grieve. Grief would destroy our father. Destroy lives. My father's mind is broken because I-" Boromir turned. "I must return."

"He needs to think of Faramir as his remaining son..." I tried.

Gandalf was quicker. Shadowfax sprung forward, waking Pippin, and blocked Boromir. "You cannot return yet."

"What do you mean, dreams?" Did this mean that some men had those dreams too? I tried to move forward. "Boromir, really, he dies-"

"I have seen his death, Wenduin. He is my father. I love him. It is his grief that drives him mad. I should not have let him believe I was dead. Now, Minas Tirith is at risk, and my father is almost lost..." Boromir tried to move past Gandalf.

Gandalf shoved him back with a nudge of the staff. He met my eyes.

I got it. Somehow, even though he hadn't said a word to me, he had a problem and there were two choices. One- let Boromir come with us. Or send us both back to Edoras, I'd have to drag Boromir there, literally if I had to. Maybe tied up.

And it was up to me.

Just as I couldn't let Legolas come with us, I couldn't let Boromir go screw up Faramir. Was I sad about him loosing his father? Yes, of course! But … "For the sake of your brother, Boromir, you have to let it happen."

"Loose my father."

"Or let your brother spend the rest of his life feeling unloved, your father refusing to let Aragorn take his place, and Gondor ruled by a man who is already mad." My words were kind of harsh and Boromir flinched. "You know he gets worse with Faramir when you're there. He uses his love for you to punish him."

It was funny, how Boromir's life was the most clear out of all I'd seen, how I got him better than the others. He stared at me, face white, blonde hair dark with dampness, as Gandalf shifted impatiently. He seemed frustrated, angry even, like he was going to smack Boromir over the head with the staff. But his eyes went to the sky instead. I stared at it as well, afraid suddenly, half wondering if one of those nas-gal things were about to come and swoop on our heads.

Gandalf had to run.

Fucking hell. I swore softly to myself, arms crossing, annoyed. Stay with Legolas? Great, if I was safe, not about to be swooped up and tortured and whatever else. Gondor? Might have been easier.

"I will take this." He said to me, holding up the phone, before sliding it into a pocket in his robes. Gandalf turned and without another word, Shadowfax sprung away, leaving myself and Boromir there.

Boromir moved, as if to follow, and I grabbed the reins of his horse and glared at him.

"So." I snapped. "If a big nas-gal thing comes and attacks me, am I supposed to ask Legolas to kill me before it takes me away, so I don't get tortured for infomation?"

Boromir flinched again, guilt crossing his face, as he stared towards the others. The look on his face though was enough to stop me from saying anything else. It took him a lot of self-control to turn his horse around, reluctant, his face white. Okay. As angry as I was, as afraid as I was, I couldn't even begin to know what it was like to ...know I'd never see my father again. That he'd die before I got back. I didn't even remember mine.

"I did not think. I was ...afraid." He admitted. "Whatever I will do, Wenduin, I will ensure nothing takes you from us."

"Maybe they don't know how much I could know." I said softer. "I don't even really know what I can share. Most of it is useless. Giant elephants and stuff."

"You have seen Mumakil in a future battle?" Boromir seemed to return somewhat to his self at this, as if the topic of battle seemed to snap him back into an area he was more used to, his eyes focusing somewhat. The man had to be exhausted.

"Yeah." I admitted quietly. Boromir started forward, in the Rohan direction, and good old Tinkerbell followed.. She was probably relieved to be going at 'normal horse' pace without Shadowfax making her do un-horsely speeds. "How long have you been riding?"

"Since the feasting."

"What happened to all your pretty ladies?" I tried to tease. Something else was on my mind though. "Do men dream like Elves? Of the future?"

"I have, sometimes. Some things seem to be to torment me. Some things, I know to be true. Some are messages with a meaning I know not." He sounded exhausted as he spoke, just barely over the sound of his horses hooves. "Let us talk of it when we stop to rest at daybreak. Now, we must ride."

As we rode quietly and quickly, the soggy ground squelching under hooves, rain blowing against my face where the cloak didn't cover it, I managed to stay awake. Again, the speed was enough to scare me into staying focused, the darkness, the fear that poor Tinkerbell might put a hoof into a hole or something and down we'd both go.

It was slower than with Shadowfax though. Daylight broke slowly, through the light cloud cover, and we both agreed to stay hidden in a particually thick area of scrub. No handy caves here- it was back to Rohan's rolling dry lands- but there was a river which had attracted a fairly wild growth of trees, shrubs and bushes. Not exactly ideal but it was some kind of cover.

I dismounted, awkward, legs exhausted, bum aching, and stared at Tinkerbell.

"Here." Boromir strode over, slowly, reaching up to touch her bridle. He seemed an expert with this part at least. "Let them rest properly." He slid the leather off, the saddle off, running his hand across her flank. It left only part of the bridle on, just a few straps of leather, and he released her. Tinkerbell moved away towards the river where his horse was already drinking.

"Won't they wander?"

"They will not. The horses of Rohan do not leave in the service of their riders. Only when set free, do they wander." Boromir hung the leather things on a thick branch and moved to sit nearby more or less between bushes.

I wandered over too, muscles complaining with every move of leg, bum and back, and crawled in to sit a few feet from him against the other shrub.

"You should rest." Boromir said softly. "Tis a long ride tonight."

I was about to agree when I took one look at the man. Ratty hair, pale face, dark shadows under the eyes, reminding me that he had been going since the celebration a good day and a half ago. At least I'd gotten a good sleep. "Uh, no."

"No?"

"You sleep first." I stood up, stretched, and bent down to take off my shoes. "You're the one who did a runner. When was the last time you've slept?"

Boromir grinned sheepishly at me at that. "Tis a while."

"Sleep then! I need to walk around barefoot." I threw a shoe at him. "You can't smell my feet asleep."

"Do not leave the shade." Boromir didn't even put up an argue. He looked kind of relieved actually. He pulled his saddle across, tugged off his tunic, and started to fold it. "Do not break cover. Remain close."

"Trust me, I do not want to be picked up by a giant flying dinosaur, I won't go far." Except to go to the bathroom, of course, but that's it. "Have a good sleep."

My boot was flung back at me and he nodded as he lay down and rested his head on his jacket over the saddle. Instant pillow. Nice idea.

"You asked of dreams."

"Yeah." Hours ago. I sat down nearby, tucking my legs close to my chest now my feet were bare, half the bush over my head. Again, I stared up, anxious about whatever might be up there. "I also told you to sleep."

Boromir twisted to me, opening one eye, saying softly, "It was a dream that came to myself and my brother. A riddle. We both were called to Rivendel. My father did not know, I had not yet told him, and Faramir could not if he tried. He chose to send me when Faramir should have come. And now, I dream again, and I only see my father's end."

"Every dream?"

Boromir nodded, shutting his eyes, breathing out slowly. "Almost. I sometimes fear sleep for fear I see it once again. It torments me."

"Maybe the ring can still fuck with us from a distance?" I offered. It didn't change the fact that he was dreaming something that was the truth...

A foot kicked me hard in the side. Boromir opened his eye again. "Stop cursing! You are a _lady_! How I will take you home to the White City, Wenduin, I never know."

"Sorry." I grinned as he shut his eyes. "Shh. Go to sleep or I'll do it again."

"I will sleep. There's no need for threats, my lady." He laughed softly though, amusement on his face, a smile on his face as he fell asleep.

It was so peaceful that morning. I could barely believe any kind of war would be happening right now, any kind of evil in the world, as I sat there and watched the river drift past us. Sometimes I'd see a fish leap, a bird dive into the water, or forage for seeds close by. Sunlight flittered in and out, as clouds covered it, the light rain continuing as dawn turned into real morning. It was going to be a warm day today.

I didn't leave Boromir, not except to go to the bathroom, but I did move closer to the river to dangle my bare feet in the water.

Boromir woke with a start, scaring the crap out of me, a shout as he was suddenly on his feet, his sword out, his breathing fast. It was so sudden- the transition from peaceful sleep to panicked wakefullness- that I was half tempted to hide till he woke up properly.

"I cannot … I cannot do this!" Boromir snapped. He was grabbing the bridles, face drained of blood, sweat pouring off his face. "How can you ask me to abandon my father? My city? I have seen that which comes!"

"I told you, if you are, it's just the ring fucking with you!" It was a half-lie. Wasn't it? I knew that they'd surivve more or less... but what if he'd seen what I had seen? "Boromir, you can't ..."

He looked kind of mad actually. It was so strange to see him like this, like he was still half asleep, and without thinking I'd grabbed my boot, filled it with water and chugged the whole thing at him. Icy cold water splashed across him.

Boromir blinked at me, confused, some awareness returning to his eyes as he stared at me. But his determination didn't vanish. "I must fight! Wenduin, I must ..." Boromir finally met my eyes properly. Even now, his eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something I couldn't. "I _must_ defend my city. I must _not_ allow my father to remain in madness. I love him, as I love my brother, is that so mad?"

"No! Of course it's not mad. He's still your dad, I know. But your brother..." I protested. I tried to approach, as he backed up, heading for his horse. "We can't do it that way. You _know_ why! That's why we're supposed to go back to Rohan! To fight with _them _to help your city!"

"I am no horseman, Wenduin. Are you?"

"Horse _woman_ and ...well, no." I muttered. Okay. I kind of had the basics happening- stop, start, fast, slow, this or that way. Before he could speak again, and I knew Boromir was about to open his mouth to do so, I added, "I mean, I can ride now, so _kind_ of one?"

Boromir snorted softly as he moved closer. He bent over me, towering over me, his voice low and intense as he stared at me."In battle, Wenduin, your horse will panic. It is a frightening place. You yourself know that by now. Even I cannot ride a horse in battle as the men of Rohan can. I would listen to tales of them as a boy- that every child would be able to sit on the back of a horse safely before they could walk. That they would learn to ride and run at the same time. No. We would be of no use."

"Well, I-" I hesitated. I stepped back, not liking how close he was, anxiety starting to rise at the way he was looking. It reminded me too much of another time. "I would try."

"I know." Boromir's voice softened slightly as he stepped back. He reached up to grasp his head with his hands, clutching to it, groaning softly as he shook his head. "I am sorry. Wenduin, as would I. We would both try. Do not think I have forgotten what is at stake if I am seen returning to Gondor. I just … am uncertain. My father's fate haunts me. I do not mean to frighten you. I would _die_ before I hurt you."

"At least you know how to fight." I offered. I believed him though. It wasn't like the last time. He was still aware of me, still in control of himself, and this time when he stared at me, there seemed to be some control coming back into his face. As the dream faded, I saw Boromir returning, and my fear of him faded.

"Aye, I do."

I sighed and went quiet. I wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't tell him his father would be okay. I knew that wasn't the case and it wasn't fair to lie to Boromir. I stared at my legs, brushing horse hair and dirt off them, focus still on the older man out of the corner of my eye. He sat cross legged as well, staring at his hands, breathing in and out in long deep breaths. It was a calming thing, I thought, wasn't it? To breathe like that?

"You'll at least see Faramir..." I offered, quietly, and I did see something warm and nice flash across his face at that. Boromir actually smiled a small sad smile at that. He nodded and his shoulders untensed.

"I have missed him. I know also that we all must pass from this world. If it is … if my father must go giving my brother that gift, then..." Boromir breathed in long and deep and released it slowly. He met my eyes with a sad smile, his eyes suddenly damp. The sight kind of broke my heart. "What better gift could I offer my little brother than the love of our father?"

"Well, the unexpected return of you would make it sweeter." I tried to smile but I felt kind of sad for him too.

"Make it sweeter..." Boromir's lips twitched, his smile increased somewhat, as he reached out to squeeze my knee. "You, my friend, have the strangest way of saying things. Yes. My return will make it sweeter. It is your turn to rest, Wenduin, and then we will continue on to Edoras. Now or later, I would have had to accept the death of my father, and … if I had any regret, it was to not let my father see Faramir in all his strength. I must … let him go. I am sorry. The dream frightened me. I hope I did not frighten you."

"A little." I admitted. "It's okay. We'll do our part till it's over. Just try and hang onto that reunion with Faramir, maybe it'll help. Picture his beautiful babies with Eowyn or something."

"His babies." Boromir chuckled softly. "Yes, they would be beautiful. Yes. Now, go to sleep, and I will keep watch."`

I slid down to my side in the dry leaves, watching him just a moment longer, but he seemed okay now. More like himself. He was heading for the river, dunking his head in the water, apparently normal again.

Shutting my eyes, I let myself relax, listening to the gentle movement of horse nearby, the smell of horse, water and dirt in my nose, and a bird somewhere adding to the peace of the moment. As uncomfortable as it was, I was exhausted after last night, and it wasn't long before I fell asleep.

* * *

A/L

Happy, um. Saturday! Yes, THREE chapters. Broken up. I've been writing for some time and I didn't realise how much I'd written over the past week. :) So ... hopefully, broken up into three parts, it'll make it easier to read them. Thankyou for your reviews! I always apprechiate constructive crit, yes, spelling needs work, ect. Please try and keep it constructive though. I am happy to hear everyone's POV as always, but if you don't feel comfortable about something, try and keep your review constructive so that I can learn from it in the future.

Good example:

_Wenduin swears too much_ for middle earth.

THAT helps. :D (I am trying to write in more reactions to it.)

So yeah, please keep that in mind, I really don't want to have to block anon comments to avoid nasty comments. Much love to you all.


	13. Bonds

I woke to Boromir's gentle shake, very reluctant, and the second our eyes met a jolt of adrenaline and fear shot through me. It was a memory of that nightmare, that thing that hadn't happened, and he must have seen the fear across my face because he was quick to stand and step a few feet back.

"It is time to ride. I have cooked us some simple food." He said softly. "Did I scare you?"

"Bad dream." I muttered and smiled weakly. The visual reminder of the rape was fading from my brain as fast as it had when Gandalf had destroyed the illusion. Maybe I'd never fully forget it, maybe it'd always haunt me from time to time, I couldn't be sure. The smell of cooked food got my attention. "Food?"

"Aye. We need energy. I found something and I believe we need to hurry." Boromir sat down and started to bury the ashes of a tiny fire. He lifted a stick from a rock where several sat and held a stick out.

It was a bird.

I took the stick and stared at the poor little bird. Head gone, all plucked, Boromir looked very pleased with himself. "Is this a-"

"They were searching for food not far. Eat." Boromir ripped off a wing.

"They were cute!" I almost dropped the stick, horrified, and put it down on the stone it'd been kept on. Oh my god. Boromir was eating a wing. Oh, gross. Gross! "I can't eat this!"

Boromir laughed and ripped off a bird leg. The poor leg was barely longer than my pinkie finger. I gawked at it, horrified, staring at a leg. A leg! It still had a claw! Oh gross. Meat. Meat was suddenly not fun. Gross!

"No, I'm not eating it! I'll eat..." I fumbled in my pocket. Lembas. Legolas was going to get one hell of a hug for this. "This."

"As you wish, my lady." Boromir grinned at me, clearly amused by my reaction, and returned to doing his barbaric sinking of teeth into poor birdy flesh. Seeing a pile of feathers to one side did not help. He glanced back at them and shrugged. "I will take these back for arrows."

Arrows. Used feathers.

"I think I want to be a vegetarian." I muttered. A vegetarian ...archer. Oh gross.

"A what?" There he was, finishing a bird. Eating another.

"They only eat vegetables and dairy, like cheese, eggs, stuff like that."

Boromir's face was priceless. He actually held out a stick again. "You talk as a mad woman."

"I seriously am not going to eat it. Offer to me it again and I bury it. Give it a funeral." I shuddered, eyes catching on the eaten corpse of the last bird, bones showing. I opened up the lembas and took a bite instead. Not very satisfying. But it was much better than eating poor birds.

"They are just birds, Wenduin."

I didn't answer. I stood up to relieve myself as he finished off his murdered birds, heading for the water, and washed my face and hair. It was growing dark, birds singing, which didn't help the twist of my stomach at the reminder of what he was eating. Ew.

"This is what I found." Boromir said softly, kneeling beside me, holding something out. An arrow. Black. Red tip. "Tis from my people, from the White City, a cry for help from Rohan. It never made it to Theodan King. The man I knew, a good man, was dead for some time. Several days, maybe more." He breathed out slowly, sad, standing up slowly. "Gondor calls for help. It will not be long before they try again. We must return to deliver this to Theodan King. Tonight we must ride fast and hard."

"Understood." I stood up as well, dusting myself off, and followed him to the horses. With his help Tinkerbell was ready again, the big gray mare seemingly better than she had been that morning, her ears forward once more. "Ready to go?" She seemed to listen to me, ears flickering, soft velvet nose butting into me as if she was encouraging me to just get on already so we could get going.

"Come, my lady." Boromir held out his hand. "We ride for Edoras."

I mounted, partly with his help, and tugged the cloak over my head and shoulders. Boromir leapt up easily onto his horse.

We traced our way slowly out of the ditch, a golden sunset to one side as Boromir led us into a fast gallop towards the direction of Rohan, the stars slowly re-appearing in the sky as the sun vanished once more. The lembas did give me energy. Amazingly, I didn't loose energy or concentration, and the ride didn't scare me as much tonight.

As the night went on though, my energy faded, Boromir's energy fading as well. Even the horses couldn't keep at a run for that long. We had to slow down, the horses stumbling somewhat after a while, and by morning we were at a walk.

I leaned against Tinkerbell's neck in the early morning light, the exhaustion finally filtering in, meeting Boromir's face. He was sweating and tired too. Tinkerbell's soft hair was sweaty as well, her sides heaving, head drooping towards the grass. We had been riding along steeper terrain now anyway, up and down, which must have been harder on the poor horses. Now that it was light I could see mostly only uphill.

"I would keep riding but-"

"But?"

"We may fall off." He smiled weakly. Reached down to stroke his horses neck, affectionate. "They will need a rest before we continue. They will need it to ride back down these slopes safely."

"I think we're supposed to travel by night anyway, aren't we?" It wasn't an excuse. I was actually concerned about the nas-gal things. I glanced at the sky, somewhat anxious, Boromir's eyes following mine.

"Aye." He agreed quietly. Boromir nudged his horse towards the edge, nothing more than a cluster of rocks and trees near a steep slope, less of a shelter than the last place. "We will rest until midday and decide."

I nodded, and tried to urge Tinkerbell, who just stood there. She ignored me.

"Climb down and lead her. She is tired." Boromir called.

Doing as he said, I dismounted once more, and led her towards the shelter. As Boromir tried to, his horse suddenly reared, nearly throwing him on his ass, and was charging off before he could grab it. He swore, much to my amusement, reaching down to grab a stick and throw it. It obviously didn't help.

I reached up to stroke Tinkerbell's beautiful face, who just stood there passively, as Boromir turned and stomped towards his shelter. She followed me happily, didn't wander away when I unsaddled her, and stood there under the shade of the trees, trembling slightly.

"This will slow us again." Boromir growled softly. He seemed angry and embarrassed all at once. It was kind of funny. The man clearly wasn't a big horseman.

"Yeah, I know. You sleep first." I sighed.

Boromir didn't argue. He stripped off his sword and armour, face still tense with anger at his horse, and lay down heavily.

As he slept, I nibbled on the lembas, and kept watch. Like before there wasn't much to do, to see, it was mostly sleeping. Not much happening. It was a bit anti-climatic, but then I was finding a lot of this was, like not everything about this war or this fight was endless excitement. There were boring bits.

Somehow I was starting to enjoy the boring bits. Something great about just sitting there, Boromir snoring close beside me, watching flowers slowly open and turn towards the sunshine, a dew covered spider web 'vanish' as the dew evaporated, find shapes in white fluffy clouds, all these peaceful things that I would be too distracted to see during the 'exciting bits'.

It gave me time to think.

Gandalf, Legolas, and about wizards and elves knowing of 'other worlds'. Or Saruon, maybe able to mess with my world, and how catastrophic that'd be. What if he already had? If I could come one way then things could go the other way. The whole 'never mess with the other worlds' law made sense.

And it had been Galadriel's daughter who'd brought me here.

I fiddled with sticks, sticking them in the ground absent-mindedly, balancing them as I tried to think on what I knew of my own life. I should have been more interested in it, shouldn't I? But what I could remember was kind of repulsive. I could remember that I had a boyfriend. Beautiful boyfriend. Some parts of it, how he'd be so sweet, but then he'd be so nasty. How I felt like I didn't deserve him.

That same feeling came up now with Legolas. It had been since I'd given into him, I realised with a start, that resistance to _his_ attention. Yes, the fact that he was some kind of 'Prince', an 'Elf', all those things worried me, but it was more than that. I wasn't sure I deserved someone special like that. Hell, even Boromir, I might have thought the same of him.

I didn't know why I felt like this. Like I wasn't good enough for Legolas. I just knew, from my limited memories, that I'd felt the same way about this 'boyfriend'. And it'd meant he could be nasty to me and he'd get away with it.

Brian.

His name came to me, easily, like it had always been there. Brian. Now I saw it. Brian, this beautiful man, this man I'd believed was 'the one'. I'd dreamed about him for years, hadn't I? The beautiful man with long blonde hair and grey eyes. Then there was Brian, straight away, and we met through a Lord of the Rings chat room when I was fourteen and he was seventeen.

Everyone had said it wouldn't work. But when I turned sixteen and he had just turned twenty, he asked me to move in with him, and I did. I started to rent a room in a share house, Brian in the room next to mine, and I'd spent half my time in his bed anyway. Sneaking out early morning so our house mates wouldn't notice where I'd been.

He was so proud of me, his girlfriend who could sew his cosplay, a famous Olympian, boasted about me, took me everywhere, and kept trying to decide for me what I'd eat. So I'd sneak food, then feel really guilty, and when he'd make nasty comments about my weight, I'd agree. When he'd say stuff like 'You know, you could try just not eating for a while', I'd seriously think about it.

I hadn't always put up with it though. We'd broken up and got back together half a dozen times since I was fourteen. This time we'd lasted _three years_, not counting the 'break' period, and boy did he love to boast about it.

The media loved us though. I stared ahead, at the clouds, remembering it. God, had they loved it. Brian and Kimberly. That had been my name. Kimberly. The 'innocent love', the engagement, how he'd talk about how he was waiting for me to be eighteen before we married and 'made love' for the first time.

In private, he had wanted sex, and it was probably the only time I really stuck up for myself. I wasn't ready. It hadn't felt right. I'd let him do other things, made myself do things for him, going down on him, but it had really been one sided. It was to keep him happy. When he was happy, I was happy, we were both happy.

It wasn't like he was always mean though. He got mean when he was worried for me or scared. Most of the time he was sweet to me. Sometimes I'd wake up and he'd have made me breakfast in bed, or he'd drive me to school, and that was nice because I didn't have friends at school so it was kind of cool... Brian would wait for me after school, he'd hug me, he'd kiss me, and he'd do it in front of everyone. Or he'd come in the middle of my lunch hour with my special lunch.

I didn't feel as lonely or sad when he visited. Sometimes he'd bring his friends. They'd sneak in, past the teachers, and we'd hide down the back while I ate. He'd never let me skip classes. Brian would take me on holidays, just the two of us, to movies, he'd take me to concerts, and we'd go Cosplaying together. With him, I felt like a woman, I felt loved, and Brian always protected me. Always. Sometimes he'd follow me when I went on my own, to make sure I was safe, he'd buy me clothing, and he kept my money so we could save. He even paid for my phone bill so I didn't have to worry.

How could I have forgotten all this? It crowded into me now.

My dislike of him faded somewhat, memories of his sweet side, but …

It still felt like it belonged to someone else. I didn't feel like 'Kimberly'. I still felt like Wenduin. He was all I could remember and …

"Some lookout you are." Boromir's voice cut in, as his hand clasped my shoulder, making me jump. "Tis midday."

"I remembered something." I said faintly, staring up at him, amazed at how much time had gone. It didn't seem real.

"Your horse seems refreshed. We will ride. Tell me as we ride, and then rest."

"On horseback?"

Boromir nodded. I stood up with his help, my legs kind of trembly, head swimming with Brian. Who I hated and loved. But … not like Legolas. It was hard to explain, to separate in my head, except that what I'd felt for Brian had been different. It'd been desperation, almost, a need for Brian, and every time he'd said we should just break up, I'd felt so frightened. So desperate. I needed him to protect me, to love me, I'd felt like I'd die or suffocate without him. Like life wasn't worth living.

"Come on, Wenduin." Boromir prodded me. I blinked at him, he was already on Tinkerbell,and climbed up in front of him with his help. He squeezed her sides, Tinkerbell moving forward, arms on either side of me, ticklish cheek against the side of my forehead. "Tell me."

"My name was-" I hesitated. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want … to be that name. It just didn't feel right. "Well, I can't remember now. But I was dating a guy called Brian. A man."

"A man?"

"Yeah." I suddenly really missed Legolas. It was hard to explain. I'd felt like Brian had been the real thing, the right kind of relationship, that I'd needed to be protected and taken care of. Legolas didn't do that. Oh he did, sort of, he protected me when he had to... but Brian would have made me stay in Rivendel. Locked me there if he'd had to. He would have made it perfectly clear to Boromir WHO I belonged to. Legolas never had. Even though he'd spent hundreds of years waiting, even though he'd decided how important I was to him, he'd waited with only a nudge here and there.

I guess he never had to.

"I don't know. I loved him but now-" I tried to still my trembling legs. "I don't know."

"Love can fool us. Tis not them we love, but some part of our heart we neglect." Boromir's words were surprisingly deep. He urged Tinkerbell faster up the slope and she responded. "Did he behave as your partner or was he something you lacked?"

I didn't answer him. But his behaviour filled my head. Possessive, almost obsessive, deciding what I'd eat, who I'd see, who I'd talk to, where I'd go, what I'd spend my money on, this assertive man who I ended up depending on. He'd decide what media I'd be interviewed by. How long I'd study for. He had strength for both of us. Confidence. I didn't need to be confidant or strong. I trusted him. Even if he was jealous, sometimes, or possessive of my time. If he refused to let me stay in the Olympic village, or thought my male coach was flirting with me, so I'd have to hire a female one that we 'both' liked.

But had he done it because he loved me and really wanted me to succeed? I wasn't sure any more. Once I had been. I'd stopped talking to my parents because of him- because they thought he wasn't good for me. Only, I couldn't remember them still. I could only remember Brian. It felt like he'd been my whole world anyway.

"I don't know what to think."

"You do not have to right now. Rest, as I ride, and we will try and return to Edoras quickly."

I didn't rest that well, not really, drifting in and out against Boromir's chest. It was almost a relief as we came over a edge of the slope and suddenly saw it, in the distance, against the darkening sky. Edoras. At the sight of it I tried to put my memories behind me. Tried to forget my real name. I was _Wenduin_. Not Kimberly. Not Kim-baby.

"Tis a few hours before we reach it." Boromir said against my ear, squeezing me in a hug, sounding exhausted. "I must rest a moment. Do you mind if I have a bite of the lembas bread?"

"Go ahead." I held Tinkerbell still as he dismounted, heavily, his face tired again, and held out the lembas for him. "Just a bite seems to be good."

"My stomach has not felt well since the birds. Perhaps you were right to avoid them." Boromir smiled weakly as he took a bite and sighed. "It seemed like a good meal."

He vanished into the bushes for fifteen minutes, returning, looking a little ill. Boromir re-mounted, drinking a good mouthful of water, and off we went again.

"Birds?"

"Birds." He growled softly. "I will stick to chickens from now on."

I laughed softly, as Tinkerbell got a kick of speed, and we rushed down the slope to the plains surrounding Edoras, flying through the increasing dark. The lights of the Hall burnt bright in the darkness, drawing us close, and the closer we got the more my energy picked up.

He was right- it took some time to get there. We had to stop several times as well, Boromir's poor stomach, and by the time we were in the gates of Edoras, I was twitching in the saddle in front of Boromir.

As he drew up in front of the stables, I leapt off Tinkerbell, and right into Gimli. He was laughing, arms out, hugging me hard as Legolas stepped into the gentle light of the lanterns, his arms crossed a smug smile on his face. Clearly he'd known I was coming back. Had he seen us? I didn't even bother asking. He was tense, amused and happy, but tense.

"Gimli!" I hugged him, as Boromir climbed down, looking green all over again. My eyes met Legolas, who moved to grasp my shoulder, "And Legolas."

"The Elf said he saw you two coming."

"We had to change our plans when I found a runaway." I glanced back at Boromir, who was heading for outside, the sound of his stomach trying to throw up again audible even to me. "Did I miss much?"

"No." Legolas answered softly. "Gimli, let Aragorn know they're here."

"And Boromir's got himself sick by eating innocent birds." I added.

Gimli chuckled. "I'll take him inside." He headed off into the darkness outside, leaving myself and Legolas alone in the stables.

Legolas moved to help me with Tinkerbell, the two of us removing her saddle and stuff, his arm brushing my arm. When one of the stable hands came to take over, I followed Legolas outside, neither of us touching until we were alone in that tiny room.

He pulled me into his lap, as he sat down on the bed, burying his head in my neck and inhaling slowly, one of his hands tracing down my back and resting against my lower back. Tension faded from his body slowly only now. "You are safe."

"You really surprised?" I teased softly. "With your magic Elf foresight?"

"Not everything is seen. But-" Legolas leaned back, eyes meeting mine, adding, "You can take care of yourself."

The words made my chest kind of swell, warmth flooding me, there was a kind of pride and warmth there. I reached up to touch his face, Legolas leaning his head into my touch, love flooding me. "You too." He shuddered as my fingertips made contact with his ear tip, his eyes shutting with pleasure, and I leaned forward to kiss him gently.

"I remembered things." I said quietly, against his lips, and rested my chin on his shoulder. Legolas' arms tightened around me automatically, like he knew I just needed a hug, his body shifting to balance my weight better.

"They are not pleasant?"

"Not exactly." The words were automatic. It was true too. It wasn't like remembering Brian or the obsession with him brought me joy. "It's just confusing. I don't even ...feel like her any more, you know? My boyfriend, my life, nothing seems ...I don't know if I like it. The name doesn't even seem right."

"What was your name?"

"Kimberly."

Legolas actually laughed, which was a relief, as he pushed me back somewhat and stared up at me. "That is a terrible name, Wenduin, and I shall never call you it."

"Please don't. Like I said, it doesn't seem right." I smiled weakly. "Brian was my boyfriend. Lover."

"I do not like him. His name tells me much." There was jealousy there, suddenly, Legolas frowning.

"Like what?"

"That I do not like him." He tried to smile, arms tightening, kissing the side of my neck. "Your face when you say his name tells me more."

"It does?" Though that wasn't surprising either. I still didn't know how I felt. I could feel how I used to feel- the love, intense desperate love, the insecurity without him, the incredible pleasure it brought me to have him beside me. To have him happy. I wanted to make Brian happy. I felt that fear of him dumping me, seeing how useless I really was.

But then I saw Legolas, and somehow, it was different. Some part of me wanted to say 'Fuck your happiness, what about mine?' and kick Brian in the balls. What was the point of him being happy if I was afraid of doing the wrong thing all the time?

Teeth nipped my lip as, Legolas getting my attention, and I kissed him gently. The taste of him, the feel of his mouth, and how …. while he liked to be in charge, he loved it when I did... If I knew anything it was that I cared for this stupid Elf. My stupid magic Elf. My kiss seemed to relax him all over again, and he was tipping me back onto the bed, weight pressed against mine.

"Tell me of him and you." He said softly, leaning back, sitting between my legs as he tugged me up. "Everything. Share it with me."

I did, quietly, struggling, Legolas bringing me water midway as I struggled to actually speak of it. And when I had, when the candle had burnt down, Legolas showed no repulsion.

"You thought you had dreamed of him?"

"Yeah." I said quietly. Legolas waited for me to speak, waited for me to understand what I had said, and the pieces clicked together slowly. It wasn't Brian I'd dreamed about. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"You should stop doubting yourself, Wenduin." Legolas reached up to tuck hair behind my shoulder, fingers grazing over where I'd lost an ear, and I felt his hand tremble. "I have seen you blossom and I do not wish for you to hide again now."

"I don't want to return to that." Now that I'd told him everything, every sordid embarrassing detail, I felt exhausted. "Boromir okay?"

Legolas listened, his eyes going hazy, and he nodded. "He is sick but improving."

"Good." I yawned, leaning against his chest, and his hands pushed me slowly onto my back again. "I couldn't eat those birds."

"Our heart knows best always. Go to sleep, my love." Legolas was standing, slowly, and bent down to tug off my belt. "Let your past go for now."

I nodded, curling up and pulling the blanket over my body, feeling him sit beside me, his fingers sliding under my tunic to stroke my back slowly. The sleep started to wash over me and I muttered, "I could get used to falling asleep like this."

Legolas laughed softly. "Good, for I will be beside you for many a year."

This somehow was a nice thought. I leaned up to kiss him, a sweet slow sleepy kiss, and escaped into a deep comfortable sleep filled with song and warmth.

It was well into morning before I woke. A window was open, a sweet warm breeze blowing in, birds singing outside. Legolas had not left the room, or if he had I hadn't noticed, and now he was sitting beside me on the bed, legs crossed, singing softly to himself in the light of the morning.

"Were you singing all night?" I asked sleepily, as his head turned to meet mine, Legolas nodding.

"It comforts those weary of heart." He responded before he continued to sing, quiet, the Elvish words beautiful. I shut my eyes and lay there relaxed beside him, feeling him crawl in to lie beside me, the soft rumble of his voice against my forehead.

He was right. Somehow the weight of my past with Brian felt a little easier to bear. I felt rested, comforted, and secure. Safe. I felt like I could be myself right now, even fart, and Legolas would only laugh and keep singing. It was an amazing feeling.

After some time, listening to him sing, Legolas went quiet and we lay there some time.

"We should rise." Legolas said softly. "Wash, and dress."

"I guess you're right. About what I remembered, and my name-"

"I will not speak of it." Legolas promised, as he stood up slowly, "And will call you Wenduin until you ask otherwise."

Which might be never, I thought, as I stood up slowly. He went for hot water and soap and we washed together in the sunshine. Halfway through washing, I couldn't resist, and 'bathing' was interrupted for a quick but sweet lovemaking session that left me wanting _another_ nap afterwords.

"Hall." Legolas said, amused, as he slid his leggings back on. "Help me dress."

"Okay, okay." I teased. "Ordering me, Prince Leggy?"

He laughed softly. "If my lady asks, I am her servant first."

I helped him dress, not that the Elf really needed it, and found that he was more than happy to return the favour. Only when we left the room did we really stop touching, walking just inches apart, the urge to stare at him fighting with the urge to not be stared at by others.

Still, Merry and Gimli were great distractions, and I slid down to sit beside Gimli, relaxing back, accepting water.

"Gandalf will probably be there by now, won't he?" Merry asked softly.

"Yeah. Shadowfax was so fast." I agreed. "It was amazing."

"They'd be safe there." Merry said softly. He seemed kind of sad though.

"The walls of Minas Tirith are strong and tall, the gate strong, so yes." Boromir flopped down in front of us. "Pippin and Gandalf are very safe. I have not seen you for hours, Wenduin." He grinned, a grin that suggested he knew exactly where I'd been, adding, "Or Legolas."

"Well, you've probably been glued to the chamberpot." Merry retorted for me.

Boromir's face went slightly red but he ignored that.

"I guess you've recovered?"

"Twas just brief." Boromir dropped one foot on the table, only for it to be knocked down by Gimli,amusement in his face. "I was not that ill."

"I heard he didn't sleep all night. He was-" Merry's mouth was covered fast, Boromir sliding forward.

"Not the thing you tell a Lady, Merry."

Merry shot me a look, amusement on his face, and I grinned. I got the idea. I'd ridden on the horse with him for hours smelling the farts he kept letting off.

"That's what he gets for eating innocent birds." I muttered. I heard Legolas make a sound nearby, somewhere behind us where he'd leaned against the wall, an exhale of air that I knew was his version of 'soft laugh'.

Theodan came in to eat, food brought out, Gamling with him. They spoke softly. I had to guess it was strategy, there was a map there beside the food, or something to do with King stuff. Didn't know.

There was a shout suddenly, echoing up the hill, the sound of Aragorn approaching. ""The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!"

Aragorn burst at that moment, doors flying to either side, his shout echoing around the hall and electrifying me right down my spine. "Gondor calls for aid." As breathless as he clearly was, he stared at Theodan, waiting.

As if everyone had been waiting for this, on edge for this, Aragorn was suddenly surrounded. Literally. The mood in the hall went from 'peaceful lunch' to 'ACTION TIME'. Or, okay, maybe the peaceful lunch thing had just been me. Everyone else had probably been waiting for news for days. Soldiers, generals, Eomer, Eowyn, it was like everyone had just been three or four feet from the Hall. Waiting.

Now all their eyes were on Theodan.

I heard him say the words I already knew he'd say and knew. The peace was over. Or maybe it had never really been peaceful? Either way it was back to war and action. It was time to go back into action woman mode.

"And Rohan will answer! Muster the Rohirrim." Theodan's voice boomed around the room. No words, no sound, although in my mind I suddenly heard answering music. I heard the soundtrack.

Or was that the music for the 'Flee to Helm's deep?'

In reality, right now, there was dead silence. Theodan's voice echoed around the hall and there wasn't a single voice answering him. The only answer was the sudden movement- Gamling gathering up the maps, heavy feet thudding, Eomer doing the same, Aragorn heading for us. Other than their feet, it was so quiet that I could hear the fire cracking suddenly, the wind dancing around the Hall outside, the soft feet of Eowyn as she moved away.

Theodan strode to a heavy carved door at the end of the hall, which I had to assume was for the King's quarters, and shut the door hard behind him. Gamling wasn't far behind.

"We must ready ourselves too." Aragorn moved straight towards me. "Let's go." He met my eyes, nodding, reaching up to draw me to my feet. "We have rested long enough, I think."

"Yeah, you're right." I agreed. "Let's suit up." The words seemed wrong, sort of, but they clearly understood what I was getting at.

"Aye." Boromir stood. A rumble from his stomach made Merry snort with laughter. "Let us."

"Theodan King will not take long. Let us all be ready with haste." Aragorn clasped Boromir's arm. "It is good to have you too."

Boromir actually bowed his head to Aragorn, a smile there, and I felt Legolas tug on my arm lightly. Yeah. I wasn't surprised it'd be him with me as I suited up.

"Meet you all outside." I called, following him towards the armoury, breathing in deeply. Okay. Whatever came... I could do it. Yes. Don't panic and know where my towel was. That was all I needed. Right?

Gimli jogged to join us, the three of us helping each other, not that it was really necessary. Arm guards for Legolas and myself, lightweight leather for both of us, Gimli with the heavier chain mail. The dwarf was like a tank. All bulk and weight.

"Theodan King is already at the front." Legolas said softly. He handed me my bow, before sliding his over his back, and he and Gimli met eyes. There was a grin on Gimli's face, as he turned, heading out. Legolas met my eyes, smiled somewhat more, and it put me at ease. Okay. Orc killing. Yeah, I could do that.

"You two let me know who has the higher count." I teased, turning and heading after Gimli, only to be yanked back. Hands closed around my waist attaching one of Legolas knives once more. Lips pressed against the back of my neck.

"It will be me."

"You say that now, Elf, but when Wenduin kisses the winner, it won't be on your baby faced cheek!" Gimli called, glancing out from the door, grinning wider. "Will she, Wenduin?"

"We'll see who gets the kiss, won't we?" I nudged Legolas back, even as he stepped back,adding, "Let's get our horses."

"Horses." Gimli snorted.

The stables were buzzing with activity now, shouts called, horses led in and out, and our two horses already all dressed up waiting for us. Dressed up? Was that the right way to put it? I reached up to stroke Tinkerbell's face, her nose nudging against my face in return, no trace of her earlier tiredness there.

"She is ready." Legolas was with his horse. "As is my friend."

"What you doing, lad?" Gimli almost seemed alarmed to see Legolas sliding the bridle and saddle off his horse.

"Elves need none of this." Legolas responded. He dropped his saddle bags onto my horse, hand brushing across mine, before he held out his hand. "Do you need help on your horse?"

"No tack indeed. We'll see who falls this time." Gimli grunted as he went to stand beside his and Legolas horse, sliding a box across as he did.

I slid a foot into the metal thing and hoisted myself up the giant big grey mare. It took some effort but ...it worked. I grinned down at Legolas, who hadn't helped me for once, and shook my head. Gimli was waiting on the box, Legolas springing lightly up onto the back of his white horse, Gimli climbing up with clear distaste of the 'We don't need no saddle' idea.

"Where's Aragorn?" I asked, as we rode out, ignoring the stares for now. Yes. Lady on horse, in pants, with sword.

Legolas twisting his head around before he answered. "Speaking with the Lady Eowyn."

Ah. Of course. I glanced in the direction he looked and saw the two of them, mounting, close to where supplies were being loaded onto cart once more.

"We're moving quick today." I commented.

"Not all taken to Helm's Deep was yet unpacked. I believe Theodan King was preparing for this the past three days." Legolas added, "We all were."

Believed? He'd probably overhead it. Gimli shifted, uncomfortable on the horse, grumbling under his breath.

"Boromir had an arrow to give him."

"Did he?" Legolas asked, much to my surprise, "What did that mean?"

I stared at Legolas. He seriously didn't know. Why did it surprise me so much to find out that there was something my Legolas didn't know? "Um. It was a special arrow- a request for help. One of the Gondor men was found dead with it. I guess the beacons were Gandalf's second try."

"There was much activity last night." Legolas said softly, thoughtfully. "Theodan did not sleep much. Perhaps he made his decision last night."

"Maybe." My eyes went past the chaos around us, the horses being dressed and mounted, the carts already leaving, the running soldiers, to where Theodan stood at the edge of his Hall. Merry was there, kneeling, and I smiled somewhat. "I like hobbits."

"I do too." Gimli nudged Legolas. "Come on, when are we moving?"

"Now." Legolas was no longer smiling. Thoughtful, maybe, but not smiling. He urged his horse forward to join the crowd of men gathering at the head near Theodan, Tinkerbell following automatically, her anxiety showing in the way she danced on her hooves.

Boromir was probably right. I could ride her, more or less, but in battle? We weren't even there yet and she was already getting edgy and a little out of control.

"Horse men! I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves, fully armed and _filthy_." Gimli growled. He was still clearly uncomfortable.

"I'd like to see that." I had to admit, I did. I liked Gimli. It would be awesome to see an entire army of dwarves. "Would women fight?"

"Aye, lass, if there was need. But only in the desperate need of our kin."

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands." It was grim, what Legolas said, and neither I nor Gimli responded to it. The magic elf knew some things I couldn't. Was this one of them?

"I hope not." I said softly, as I urged Tinkerbell closer, "I would love to hear more about your kin. Even meet a woman dwarf."

"One day, both you and Legolas will come, and meet my mother." Gimli's face softened at that. "Never a finer beard on any lady, than my mother, never, and I thank her for it every time I see her." He was touching his own beard as he said that.

I laughed softly, shaking my head, picturing a female version of Gimli with the same massive beard. Okay. Yeah. I'd love to meet her. "Sounds beautiful."

"There is no woman fairer in beard."

This did make Legolas' mouth twitch, his 'calm distant mask' cracking somewhat as he and I met each other's eyes, and it was gone quickly. "We ride soon."

He was looking to Eomer. I focused, trying to get my attention back on Tinkerbell, as Eomer charged forward to the front of the crowd. Everyone's attention snapped to him straight away, this figure, this man that demanded everyone's attention just by ...well, being there. It was amazing. Aragorn appeared on my other side, Theodan moving to the very front, Eowyn close by him. Boromir was trying to help Merry move his poor pony, it seemed.

"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan. Oaths you have taken. Now fulfil them all, to Lord and Land! Hah!" Eomer charged, suddenly, his horse almost rearing. The world shook, the horses charged forward without any urging, and suddenly we were moving. Off to war we went.

The ride was amazing- the ground shook, hundreds of horses around us, and as we went, I would see riders suddenly fork off and ride away, banners held high, their horses moving swiftly towards some unseen destination. I had to assume they were spreading the word- telling everyone to come meet us at ...well, wherever we were being led.

And where we were led, to my amazement, wasn't that far at all. I had expected a long ride, I'd mentally prepared myself for it, only to find myself more or less at this crazy tall cliff within a few hours of riding. It wasn't even dark yet and we'd only left at lunch.

"Make way! Make way for the King!" I heard a shout, as our party of horses charged past soldiers already gathered, stunned as I stared around. People had moved so quickly. Tents were being pulled up, hundreds of soldiers already pulling the saddles off their horses, there was this electric energy in the air. Excitement? Not exactly. Anticipation, for sure, everyone was moving as if on fast forward. They'd won at Helm's Deep and now they were ready to win some more.

"So this is where-" I called to Aragorn, as Theodan shouted orders, waved at things, hanging onto Tinkerbell as we continued at a fast pace right towards a cliff.

"This is where we await the rest." Aragorn nodded up the cliff. "We camp up there, as the guests of Theodan King. Ride swift."

Up... there? I stared up the cliff. How were we going to get up there? Magic? Then I saw it- carts, slowly winding up some near invisible road, and a shiver ran down my spine. Oh boy. That looked scary. Beyond it were great white mountains, almost bald, which didn't help the 'shiver' sense.

Just as I'd known how to hold a bow I suddenly knew that I didn't really like heights that much. Oh boy.

Nothing for it though. Our party of 'Special King guest or friends' was already heading straight for the road. I breathed in, tried to not think about this narrow road up the cliff, and followed.

This was simple until we reached the very bottom and suddenly had to ride single file. I moved behind another horse, I didn't even care who that horse was, and suddenly wished that I was a better rider. Luckily, Tinkerbell seemed about as edgy about this idea as I did, and she hugged the cliff side so much that my leg scraped across the dirt. I might have minded another time. Right now? I didn't care. I'd rather some scrapes and tears over ...well, going over the edge of the cliff.

It also didn't help that as we got higher we started to pass extremely creepy rock formations. Or that behind me, I suspected people were wanting to go faster, so energised by this fresh battle. What was with people and being excited about this? Who knew.

Somehow I was too though. It was hard to avoid.

Tinkerbell continued to hug the cliff, as we weaved back and forward along the rocky cliff, stones kicked off the side by her hooves in the narrower places. I was so relieved to reach the top of the road that I almost dismounted then and there, almost, except that there was at least a dozen horses trying to get off the road behind me.

I followed Aragorn to a very safe sheltered spot, far away from the edge of the cliff, Legolas and Gimli already off their horses and talking. Dismounting was such a relief- Tinkerbell, my beautiful big grey mare, was already much larger than half the horses here. Add that to a giant cliff? I dreaded riding back down it.

Now that I was down though, I could turn and be amazed once more, because ...tents were already up. Only two, sure, but others were lying flat on the ground, poles being laid out for each, wagons bringing extra up.

"They were quick to set it up."

"Theodan sent them ahead yesterday." Boromir strode over with his horse rein in hand, leading it behind, his face flushed with energy. Battle clearly suited him. "I delivered the arrow myself."

"Then he had already decided?"Aragorn wasn't that offended though, I suspected, more glad. "He does not move slow when he decides upon an action."

"Probably." Boromir shrugged lightly and reached out to ruffle my hair. "Ready, little sister?"

"To smash orc butt? Sure." I smiled, ducking away from his hand, bumping into Merry's pony.

"That cliff-" Merry breathed. He was white faced.

"I know." I reached up to grasp his pony as he tried to dismount. Merry did so, but awkward, almost falling on his but. "It makes you want to throw up."

"What kind of Lady are you, Wenduin? Throw up? Never have I heard a woman so openly say that." Boromir laughed. He strode forward to take the saddle off my horse. "I am not sure a woman can throw up."

"Well," I retorted, "They do. I just don't bother hiding it like a lot do."

"The kind hardening herself for battle. I believe Theodan King wished to talk with me." Aragorn nodded at me, before he strode off, heading for where Theodan was already giving orders. Moments later, after just a few words, he was gesturing to us. We hurried over, Merry staying away from the edge, and Aragorn met Legolas, Gimli and Boromir's eyes. "He has asked us to bring firewood up."

"Then we will." Gimli raised his axe.

"Only dead wood, Gimli." Legolas was smiling though. It was hidden, sure, but I saw it in his eyes. The Elf was determined to teach his dwarf friend how to treat trees apparently. "Only the dead wood."

"Yes, yes." Gimli grunted.

"And us?" Merry moved to stand beside me. "What can we do?"

"Eowyn will have tasks for you both." Aragorn moved away, the other three following,heading for the cliff edge.

"Yeah. _Woman_ tasks." Merry muttered. He crossed his arms, disgruntled now, glancing sideways at me. It took him a moment to remember I was a woman too apparently. "Not that..." He shifted, awkward, embarrassed crossing his face. "...that a woman's task is ...lacking in honour. Sorry."

"They probably didn't ask us to get firewood because we were both about to run screaming from the cliff. I don't really want to go up and down that road all afternoon. It's already getting dark." I gazed out to where the sun was sinking low against the land. Maybe half an hour of light left, if we were lucky, and it took fifteen minutes just to ride up the stupid cliff. Merry seemed to be satisfied with that. "Let's just do the women's tasks."

"Yeah, good point." Merry glanced around. "She's there. Looks like hard work though... we could ...escape?"

I followed his eyes and saw her. It was funny how she resembled her uncle right now, business face on, ordering men and women around as easily as Theodan was doing. When she made eye contact with me I knew we couldn't escape it. Eowyn had spotted us.

"Right." I said. "No escape. Let's go."

"Let's go."

Eowyn's 'women tasks' turned out to be tents. Literally. It wasn't easy, it wasn't pleasant, it was a lot of hard work, nothing about these shelters easy. One after another, we worked together with a few others, trying to get the tents up before the sunlight faded from the sky. The rope burnt my hands, my shoulders ached, sweat trickle down my spine with each one, but the work was done quickly with Eowyn's directions.

As we did that, fires were lit, firewood brought up, each tent filled with furs, bedding, banners. It was incredible to see- they weren't just setting up tents, they were like little houses, though the darker it got the more I understood. The wind was cold and bitter, the furs probably kept each tent warmer and more sealed from the weather.

"Enough." Eowyn said, finally, relaxing. She smiled. "We've done well."

"How long are we here for?"

"The men leave in three days." She was distracted though, looking away. "The women of the court remain here until their return."

"Here?"

"Yes."

"Me too?"

"You are not one of our women. I think you are free to do as you like." Eowyn looked at me again now, something flashing across her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for me to figure out what she'd just felt. "If you choose to remain, yes. You would be welcome to remain here and wait for your husband."

My husband. I glanced back, Legolas appearing right then and there, his hand brushing across my lower back. I should have felt shocked at this title. Somehow though, I didn't. Eowyn seemed to take this as a signal to leave because when I looked back to her, she was already heading off, calling Merry to follow.

"Come. We share a tent." Legolas moved away again, hand separating from me once more, leading me to a tent at the side. It was little and a number of beds were set up . Two were small, hobbit and dwarf sized, so it was a tent for all of us. "We do not get privacy now."

"Well, it's duty time, isn't it? We're warriors again." Warriors. Would I ever get used to that word? Probably not. I turned to Legolas as he lowered the flap, cutting the outside world out, leaving only the faint light of a lantern set up on a small table for us. "Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"We're married, aren't we?" I asked softly.

"In the custom of the Elves, yes, from the moment we joined in body. Did you not... feel it?" Legolas hesitated. He seemed uncertain now. Almost like he was afraid I'd ...what, reject it now "Did you not wish it?"

"I guess I did." I just hadn't really thought about it. But, I still felt okay about it, completely comfortable, like it was the most natural thing for us to be. Married. Of course we were. It was hard to feel as if we had ever been anything else. "Yeah. I guess I do want it." Still. Something did nag at me. The 'This isn't fair to Legolas' feeling I'd started to get since the talk with Aragorn. "So since Lothlorien."

"In our culture, in a time of peace, I would be your betrothed for a year and a day." Legolas moved closer, reaching out to take my hand, his fingers touching one of my fingers. "I would give you a silver ring and you would give one in return."

"So we rushed it?" Opps. Breaking Elf custom.

"This is not a time of peace." Legolas kissed the finger, leaning close, his other arm coming around. "In times of war such bonds are often made. I wished to bond with you in Rivendel."

"I remember." I laughed, leaning against him, remembering that almost strange madness he'd shown. "Crazy lust filled Elf."

"It wasn't your body. It was _you_. I had waited for you and I longed to ...finally bond." To my amazement, he'd actually gone a bit pink in his ears, or maybe that was my imagination. "I was told once that I would not bond with you. I would never marry. That you were too far. But then you came."

"I shouldn't have."

"No." Legolas' head twitched, hearing something I hadn't, and slowly he separated from me. "I am not unhappy that you changed our fate. We were witnessed in Lothlorien, blessed by the Lady Galadriel, and no better time can I think of now."

Witnessed in Lothlorien. That was right. Elf super hearing meant that someone probably heard us the first time. And they probably told everyone else. I may have felt kind of okay with the idea of being married to Legolas but still wasn't completely used to that idea. That had been my first time! I didn't want anyone except Legolas in on it.

"Legolas, is this really okay? You and me. I mean, it isn't common, is it? You can say I'm Elf in spirit all you like but in body..."

Legolas hesitated. That spoke more than anything else for me. The fact that he didn't respond straight away, that he needed to think of an answer, suggested that it wasn't actually going to be as easy as he probably hoped. When he did spoke my fears were confirmed. "It is … not going to be easy. I do not know what will happen with us. The fate of mortal and immortal is not something any can see. And our path. I do not... know what to tell you. I do not know what my fate is any more."

I sighed. He looked so tired suddenly. It really did bother me … that he was doing this. I was sure he was sacrificing a lot more than he was letting on. It was like when he'd known...well, _thought_... I'd been raped and hadn't told me. Was Legolas trying to protect me again? "Legolas..."

Gimli entered at that point, food in his hands, several plates worth on top of the one he was clearly digging into. "Food."

"Thanks." I accepted one of the plates and sat down. Gimli sat on another bed, one of the smaller ones, Legolas moving to lean against the table with his own. The warmth was gone from his face. He had that distant Elf mask back on and I suspected I'd get no more answers from him tonight about this.

Luckily, we had three days, and Legolas couldn't run far from me on top of a cliff.

Merry, Boromir and Aragorn joined us soon after. I noticed that there wasn't enough beds. Aragorn, probably, had his own space. It was amazing they let me sleep in here with the others, really, given that I was a woman. Maybe no one outside this tent knew.

I ate quietly, the others joking and laughing, watching them. I didn't feel anything for Boromir, not like I did for Legolas, and now suddenly I was starting to see how insane this was. Boromir? Easy partner. Same species. No one would even question it. Legolas? That was a hell of a lot of problems right there. It reminded me, with a start, of that Romeo and Juliet movie. I'd watched it once, bawled my eyes out, and refused to watch the end after that. I'd always cut the movie off right when Romeo reached the church and tell myself that Juliet woke in time, that they snuck away, and made lots of pretty babies.

It was absurd to even be thinking of this right now. We were about to charge into some giant battle. I shouldn't have even been thinking about it. But my emotions were too crazy to let go of it. I suddenly couldn't separate us from Romeo and Juliet- like I was half expecting us to have a terrible death like that. Food finished and Gimli was already half asleep when I was caught out.

"Wenduin!" Eowyn's voice made me jump as she flung the tent flap aside. "You sleep with me."

"Oh." I stood up. Couldn't even be bothered arguing. "Okay. Don't sneak off on me, you guys."

Eowyn and I were in a fairly beautiful tent, two beds set out on either side, soft fur arranged across the gap between. There were banners hung, a wooden table set up, a soft light from the lantern making the little tent look warm and cosy. Chests were at the end of each bed, as were, I noticed, chamberpots. The beds were soft too, I realised as I bent down to touch one, really soft. Eowyn was tying the tent flaps shut.

"I can't believe it's so comfortable." I admitted as she sat on the other side with a low sigh.

"Relax. You have rode and worked hard." Eowyn was undressing, sighing again, tension fading from her body as she got the dress off her head. "I am glad we finished it so quickly. I hope your husband does not mind but-"

"I don't think he sleeps anyway." I smiled weakly. I slid the blankets back, finding an under-dress waiting inside, and somehow managed to pull it on as I tugged my other things off. It reminded me- I'd have to repair a few tears in my leggings tomorrow. "So I doubt it."

"I understand that Elves have different ritual to Men with marriage." Eowyn said, watching me, either unaware or not caring of my inability to be open with my body like she had been. "My Uncle would feel more comfortable about offering you and him privacy, if you were all Elf, but you are also the sister of Aragorn. You have not wed under the law of man yet, have you?"

"We haven't really had a chance. I don't even know how it's done." I responded as I slid into the bed. The sheets were warm. "How come it's warm?"

"The blankets are hung over the fire briefly before placed in bed." Eowyn was quick to return to her topic of choice. "The marriage of men? The father of the bride offers her to the husband. They vow, before their parents and family, to spend a lifetime together. Then there is feasting and gifts offered, gifts to assist the wife to create a home and for the husband to care for her."

"To create a home." Domestic, in other words, to get the woman settled into her new domestic life.

Eowyn laughed at my face. "Yes. Jars, pots, bolts of cloth, clothing for the children to come. I did not feel very inspired by this when I heard of it either, as a girl, I preferred the man's gifts. Swords, fine horses, such things of use."

"They sound better, really." I relaxed back in my bed and shut my eyes. I could hear Legolas nearby. He was singing, very soft, just a few feet from where I lay. Eowyn hadn't noticed. "I guess this entire ...world seems weird to me. That women aren't equal."

"You must feel that you are a man's equal before he accepts it. You do, I see it, and so do I. The men of our life will have to accept it too." Eowyn yawned, stretching, and twisted around to blow out the lantern. "Sleep well."

I lay there staring up, listening to Legolas sing softly, almost sure that I could feel the tent move slightly as he moved to stand right beside me in the dark. I felt a hand, suddenly, press against mine through the tent fabric. It was amazing how he just knew.

Then, the hand was clasped around mine, and it wasn't the tent. I stared into the side of the tent, no longer made of canvas, but a small enclosed room. Stone and wood, carvings, much like Rivendel in beauty. Legolas looked older. Exhausted. Grief was etched across his face. Something was in his arms. And beside him, holding my hand, was a boy.

It was hard to tell- he was beautiful, this little boy, so feminine in appearance. But I knew it was a boy. Wide eyes, wide bright green eyes, staring at me. Maybe three years old, couldn't be older than that, but his eyes were so wise and old.

There was a baby in Legolas' arms. Tiny, pink faced, with the mottled skin of a newborn, distinctly pointed ears on the side I could see. Cloudy blue eyes. Still bloody, still wet, wrapped in a beautiful silver blanket, a circlet already across her forehead.

"Naneth?" The boy asked, very quietly, very uncertain. He was reaching out to touch me. I saw my own hand to reach out to touch the little boy, to touch his warm golden hair, and Legolas reached out to grasp my hand and push it back down.

"Rest and heal."

I was dying.

I breathed out, slowly, and felt my heart break when I opened them and saw that Legolas too, was dying inside. There was something missing in his eyes. It was like a light was fading in them. I was dying and so was he. Only, he wasn't able to accept it, he couldn't. I knew it. I knew I was going to die. I slid the leaf off, from around my neck, and as I slid it over the boy's head, Legolas flinched and turned away, his body shaking.

"We knew it wouldn't ...last long." I heard myself say, quietly, and shut my eyes.

When I blinked again though, I could only see the side of the tent, and I inhaled slowly, pain rushing through me, aware once more of Legolas leaning against the side of the tent. What had that been? A dream? Something else?

I slid over, to stare towards Eowyn, who was already asleep. How I knew this, I wasn't sure, but it felt like some time had passed. I slid up slowly, tugging on my clothes and cloak, and was not surprised to see Legolas waiting for me at the entrance to the tent.

"What did I see?"

"See? I do not know what you mean. Come." He grasped my hand, voice soft, and I followed him through the darkness to the edge of the cliff. "Stand with me as I keep watch."

I stood beside him, our arms brushing, Legolas gazing out into the darkness of the night. I wondered how much he could see. Probably a lot.

It hadn't been a dream. Had it? I wasn't sure what I had seen. But ...I had to assume it had been one. Maybe my mind, showing me my worst fears, showing me what I feared would happen to Legolas.

"How long has it been since I went with Eowyn to sleep?"

"Several hours."

His answer calmed me a little and I sighed, releasing tension I hadn't even realised I was holding onto, relaxing. Okay. It had to have been a dream then. It was my worst fear- dying young, because I was pretty sure I had been, and seeing Legolas die with me.

As I stood beside him, as I waited for the dream to fade, I gazed out into the darkness. I let my eyes wander. Dozens of camp-fires dotted the land below us, the darkness hiding the frightening drop of the cliff, and it was as if stars had fallen to earth. The stars above were bright, clear, without any light pollution to cut them off. I'd told Legolas that these stars were different. Now I wasn't so sure. Maybe the problem had been that there'd been so many that I hadn't seen familiar shapes?

Standing there with Legolas did the trick though. I started to relax enough to be sleepy, which was probably what he'd been up to, and lazily watched soldiers around camp-fires. To my amusement I saw two men embrace, literally kiss each other's faces off, and vanish into the bush. I didn't say anything though. So what? I had an Elf for a lover. ...well, husband. I wasn't going to comment on their choices when I'd accepted an impossible husband for a partner, was I?

"Are you relaxed now?" He asked softly, almost tenderly, though he didn't step towards me. We were clearly in the 'professional distance' part of our lives. Fighting and smashing things before snuggling and touching. I somehow didn't mind. Less distracting this way.

"I think I'm going to sleep." I yawned, voice soft. "Thanks."

"Dream for us." He met my eyes a moment before his eyes went back to the land. "Dream of good things."

"I'll do my best, lover boy." I teased softly. This time when I lay down to sleep, I did not have nightmares, only a heavy relaxing sleep with Legolas singing through my dreams.

The next day, as more soldiers turned up by the hundreds, I spent most of the day with Boromir training. He was clearly determined to get my sword skills good enough to handle Orc. And for once he didn't flinch when he injured me. If anything it just made him more determined to get me to fight.

Merry got Gimli for the morning. It was a good match, Gimli was as hard on Merry as Boromir with me, and their similar heights seemed to help Merry figure out better posture. Or that was what Gimli said. That afternoon, we swapped,Gimli with me and Boromir giving Merry a hard time instead.

I knew Legolas was watching. It should have unnerved me but instead it seemed to make things easier. I could have almost sworn that I could move faster, or at least anticipate their moves faster, and when I switched to archery, I seemed to do better. Was that to show off in front of him? Maybe. Maybe it was because soldiers were watching and I was the 'half-elf sister of Aragorn and lover of the Elf' and I had a reputation to live up to.

Probably not though. I didn't really care any more what they thought. I just wanted to survive the next battle.

That night, after Eowyn had fallen asleep, Legolas reappeared and as we had the night before, we went to stand against the edge of the cliff together, side by side, a little distance between us. A foot didn't bother me right now. He could have been a hundred metres from me and I'd have known he was there.

I glanced sideways at Legolas, who had that calm relaxed look on his face, and found wonder at him returning. As this relationship continued I should have been more distracted around him. Shouldn't I? Everyone knew we were in a relationship now. And yet, even though it was public knowledge, we held back in times like this. Neither of us tried to kiss or fondle the other, tried to find a quiet space to have some fun, though we could have if we'd wanted to. Duty before pleasure.

Instead of mixing the two, instead of craving intimacy with him in tense times like this, I found myself _more_ able to concentrate. More able to be present in situations, to focus on what was happening, to be '_archer Wenduin_' instead of '_Legolas' lover, Wenduin_'. Yes, I was both things, but when I was the archer I couldn't fear for Legolas as I did when I was his lover. His _wife_.

I felt like I could stand beside him in any situation, in any kind of danger, and be able to focus. I didn't fear for him, I didn't feel like I had to watch his back, or that he had to watch mine, it was this absolute trust in him that he could handle himself and I could handle myself. That we could do our own thing when we had to, fight together when we had to, and that I didn't need him. That, when it came time for it, I could put my duty to helping fight this war above our relationship. It was the best way to honour it. Once the battles were done I could put aside my bow and we could do that lovey dovey thing with each other.

I snorted, softly, and wondered when I'd become such a hardened warrior anyway. Seriously.

"What is funny?"

"Nothing much. I'm just amused at ...becoming this. A _warrior_."

Legolas didn't look at me but I swore I saw his lips twitch in the dark. "I wish to be there when you reunite with your 'boyfriend'."

"Ex. He just doesn't know it yet." Or maybe he did. Who knew. Some part of me felt resistance to this, even now, the old Kimberly. The old me. I did still feel for him, more so now that I remembered him, but the feelings for him and the feelings for Legolas? Like vegetarian bacon against real bacon. It was always clear what was real and what wasn't.

"Why did you ask me to keep watch with you?"

Legolas shrugged, lightly, meeting my eyes a moment. "To show you that." He pointed at one of the camp-fires.

I stared down and blinked as I saw that same pair of soldiers, both men, alone at the camp-fire. Cuddling. Clearly not 'friends'. Okay. "So they're lovers. So what?"

"So, that camp-fire is two miles away."

The realisation that he was right staggered me. Suddenly, I couldn't see the soldiers, I could only see a distant blur of fire again. Woah. "How-"

"The bond."

"It makes my eyes better?"

"And mine a little worse." When I flinched, when my face fell, Legolas twisted his head in my direction to meet my eyes. He was clearly not upset. "I am still able to see, Wenduin, do not feel guilt. I share some of my strength with you and you share some with me."

"Like what?"

"Can you think of nothing men have that Elves do not?"

"Um." I was about to say 'beards' when I remembered what he'd said days before about rape. What Gandalf had said. Gandalf had said Elves were 'delicate. When I tried to answer, I sounded timid, unsure, half convinced already I was wrong. "I guess... I guess some strength... of some kind?"

"Endurance. I had to speak to Aragorn for the right word in the common tongue. Your kind, the kin of your body, can endure so much pain and suffering and yet continue on. I saw women, humans, gather their dead sons in their arms, carry their husband's bodies, find their fathers under Uruk Hai, after a night of waiting. I saw them carry them to be buried, to wash them, and yet somehow able to continue on clearing the dead. No Elf I have known could carry such terrible grief and still continue as those women had." Legolas looked away. He was thoughtful, shifting over to rest against the wall, adding softer, "We linger. Our feelings, our memories, and sometimes I have wondered if we live too long."

"Too long?"

"Yes, my love. We carry our hearts. Every mark, every love, every wound, we carry. We cannot survive terrible abuse as men can. When tortured, we cannot hold our minds. This was how the first Orc was created. The answered of all Orc is my own kin. Tortured, tormented, until they could no longer bear it. Until their madness changed them, mind body and soul." Legolas sighed. "I think we live too long."

I had not known that. I stared at Legolas, at the tired look on his face, seeing for the first time really how old he was. He was ancient by my standards. I wanted to argue with him but … I saw Lord Elrond, suddenly, speaking with Gandalf. In Rivendel. Telling him about when Isidur was supposed to have destroyed the ring. It had been thousands of years before, two, three thousand, I didn't know... and yet he'd spoken with the intense anger and pain, the resentment, as if it had been yesterday. As if it hadn't been thousands of years.

How could I argue with him?

"This is why my kin have never forgiven Dwarves since the days of betrayal." Legolas said softly. "I did not understand how wrong my hatred was until I came face to face for the first time with Dwarves."

"At Rivendel?"

"No. In my father's Hall. Gimli was not the first dwarf I befriended. Before him, was his father."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Legolas had clearly disliked Gimli and his father at the meeting. "But you-"

"Did not like him in Rivendel?" I must have been obvious. Legolas nodded. "Once, Dwarves and one hobbit crossed through Mirkwood, to face a dragon in the Misty Mountains beyond. I was younger than I am now. I had started to question what my father told me. When I met these beings, these horrors from my father's hurt, I found them to be ..." He smiled a little then. "...not so terrible after all. Bilbo, I liked, and not a single dwarf could I hate. I helped them escape my father."

"You what?" I gawked at Legolas.

"He was furious." The smile on Legolas face faded. "I do not know if I will ever be forgiven. My hurt, at my father's rejection, made me resent all dwarves and I started to believe I had been used. But now, now that I have met the son of Gloin, I know I did the right thing. My father holds his pain over his face and can not see the truth."

"He rejected you?"

"He loves me. I betrayed his love and trust. It has hurt him deeply." Legolas reached out to brush my arm, pulling me closer, so that there was only a tiny gap between us.

"And Elves hang onto things too long."

"One day he will forgive me." Legolas sounded more hopeful than certain, I noticed, his voice barely loud enough to hear. "But I am only a Prince now in name. Never will I rule the Elves of Mirkwood. I once was very sad. Now, I am at peace now with what I had to do. Now, I am grateful for the freedom he gifted me."

"But he sent you to the meeting, didn't he?"

"If he knew what was happening, it would not have been me . It would have been my brother. His heir." Legolas responded. Something did flash across his face then. Hurt? Resentment of his own? Jealousy? It was gone so fast that I wondered if I'd just expected to see it. "I only came to inform Lord Elrond of Gollum's escape."

"And here you are."

"Here I am." Legolas agreed. He smiled, sudden, drawing me close against his side, inhaling deep. "Here we are."

What he'd said about his father though worried me a little. That wasn't going to make this easy. This relationship. Or would it make it really easy? I wasn't sure. Either his father would reject me completely or he'd just pretend I didn't exist. I did not look forward to finding out which it was.

A soldier passed by and I was released. I stood nearby, as we watched the solider move past, Legolas' face shielded once more. Not just his face. Everything about him was suddenly hidden. For a few minutes he'd opened his heart to me, his mind, and shared something right beside that heart he'd have to carry for the rest of his life. It was amazing. When he was around others, he was distant, aloof, a presence that barely cracked. Around the Fellowship this changed. Not jut me. Aragorn, Gimli, even Boromir to some extent, and he'd started to show more of his true self.

"It must hurt." I said quietly, when the soldier was gone and Legolas relaxed a little, as I watched hi face. "For him to hold onto that hurt."

"I-" Legolas trailed off. Yeah, I saw it now, I did see the hurt. Like he was a child once more. Rejected by his own father. "Could ignore it more when around my own kin. We have so long. I did not see time as I do now. Now, now that I have seen … now that I have viewed the world through the eyes of mortal men, it does hurt. A little. I see time as you do."

He went guarded once more. I expected there to be a guard, or something, but no. Legolas was just shutting me out now. He couldn't expose himself any more. I didn't push, I didn't speak, I just stepped back and let it go. When he was ready to talk again he would.

I crawled into bed that night, Legolas remaining behind on the edge of the cliff, and lay there for a long time thinking on what he'd said. It bothered me. I'd never thought about it, how it was to live for so long, how hard it had to be on them. Endurance. I had shared my endurance with him. I wondered what that meant. Or what he'd shared with me in return.

It was not an easy sleep that night.


	14. Growing tension

I woke early the next morning, long before Eowyn had risen, and lay there staring at the top of our tent. More dreams had haunted me. It was always about Legolas, dying like I did, but none of them made as much sense as the first had. The more I had, the less reason to each dream, which didn't make it any less upsetting.

When I was sure I wasn't going to burst into tears, I dressed quickly and quietly, used the chamberpot, and went outside to find something to eat or drink.

Legolas had not budged. I reached up, combing my hair with my fingers, as I watched him stand exactly where I'd left him last night. Had this not been something I'd seen before- Legolas keeping watch like a statue dusk to dawn without flinching- I might have been concerned after what he'd shared with me last night. The wind played with his hair, the golden sunlight setting his skin and hair aglow with the same firey light, this unearthly being that no man went near. They seemed to avoid going near him.

I grabbed two mugs of water and went to stand beside the big scary pretty Elf, who's head twitched sideways a little in my direction, holding out a mug for him. Legolas took it and drank slowly.

"Morning."

"Morning." Grey eyes met mine. He didn't move, didn't come closer, but his eyes burnt with that intense love that was better than a good morning hug. In this situation- war- this was probably all I'd get. "You did not sleep well."

"Nope." I reached into my mug and tried to wash my face with wet fingers. The cold water did kind of help. Looking back down I tried to do the 'good eyesight thing'. This time it didn't work. "Tomorrow's the day, isn't it?"

"Yes." Legolas glanced behind us both towards where Aragorn's tent was. "But I have spoken with Gimli and Boromir. We believe Aragorn will take the path of the dead."

"The path of the dead?"

He pointed at the back of the wide flat area. I'd been so obsessed with the terrible height of the cliff that I'd barely paid attention to the back. The back had seemed big, secure, protective. Now that I actually looked there was one gap in the big protective walls around us.

"If Aragorn leaves, we have agreed to go with him. I will not tell you to remain or to come."

"I'm coming." It was an instant answer. What other answer could there be? Legolas was probably expecting the answer anyway. "Just let me know when."

"Be ready to travel."

I nodded, Legolas going quiet once more, returning his eyes and ears to the world he watched.

It grew lighter, slowly, over the beautiful land. Many hundreds of tents sat below, each unique, some small and some large. Banners flew in the breeze. Hundreds of horses, more than I had ever seen in my life, roamed free. Probably close to their masters, from what Boromir had said, but free. More must have come overnight, there was another area of the clearing below starting to fill up, smoke rising from one of the areas. It looked like a blacksmith. There was one up here too.

I could sing.

I blinked, gazing ahead, so amazed at my own memory. I could literally sing. Brian had loved it. When in cosplay, I would enter competitions and I would sing something from that world, I'd even done it as Gimli. Archery. Singing. Sewing. I had been good at all three of those things. Singing I had only done if Brian was there though. I couldn't cope unless he was there. He'd actually punched a guy who'd laughed at me once, he'd been furious, he'd always defended me.

"I can sing." I said softer, moving closer to Legolas side, the words surprising even me. When I felt his attention half return to me.

"Sing for me."

No Brian. God, I was starting to hate him, and yet … I wished he was here to be that protective presence right now. I suddenly felt naked, really vulnerable, aware of Legolas staring at me with that intense expression again. What if I messed up again? The only thing I could think of, the thing I'd sung when I'd cosplayed Gimli, sprung to mind. It was short. It'd be over with quickly.

"_Far over the misty mountains cold,_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_-"

Something in Legolas face cracked, a mask, as he stared at me. I felt so damn nervous. My voice wasn't like other womens, it was lower, I had always been able to sing the male parts realy well. It was from the Hobbit trailor. I'd sung it as Gimli. I remembered that part now. Singing it.

"-_The pines were roaring on the height,  
The winds were moaning in the night_-"

Gimli's voice joined me, quiet, his unexpected appearance not startling me. If anything his voice seemed to help.

"_The fire was red, it flaming spread;  
The trees like torches blazed with light._"

Legolas stared at the two of us with an unfathomable expression. I went quiet, it was all I knew, but Gimli continued in a soft voice.

"_The bells were ringing in the dale  
And men looked up with faces pale;  
Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire  
Laid low their towers and houses frail._

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;  
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.  
They fled their hall to dying fall  
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim  
To dungeons deep and caverns dim  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To win our harps and gold from him!

Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away, ere break of day,  
To find our long-forgotten gold."

He went quiet, staring down into the camps as well now, a kind of warmth between myself and Gimli growing stronger. When he met my eyes, his eyes were actually damp, and there was this deep appreciation in his face as he stared at me. "A song my father and mother would sing to me. Tis not just Elves and Men, then, that are remembered."

"No."

"You sing as a woman of the dwarves would. Thankyou, Lass." Gimli grasped my arm, quiet, breathing out a long sigh. Emotion flooded his voice and face.

As a woman of the dwarves. Did this bother Legolas? I stared at him but he stared away. I could have sworn, almost, that his eyes were damp too.

"She sings as an Elf." He said quietly.

These compliments probably should have made me feel good. It didn't. I felt even more self-concious and vulnerable. I'd only sung a few lines and hadn't done that well anyway, being nervous. Legolas seemed suddenly all emotional again.

It vanished very fast as people started to really wake up around us, Legolas was quick to do his mask thing, though I wondered how deep it had gone. Had it made him sad? Happy? God, why did I have to do it? I hated how vulnerable and exposed I felt now.

I wanted to pick up an arrow suddenly and shoot something. Establish my ...um. Strength.

"I will teach you the songs of our kin, Wenduin."

"And mine." Gimli added. Legolas nodded to him, shutting his eyes once more, and when he opened them again the last of his emotion had vanished into the calm Elf expression once more.

"Train today." It was a suggestion. A good one. I nodded and moved away, leaving the two of them alone, my legs kind of weak suddenly.

Eowyn had sung. Singing wasn't so unusual. I tried to swallow my fear and self-conciousness down. This wasn't the same place I'd come from. But he'd looked like he wanted to cry. Why? I didn't know or understand why Legolas had seemed so affected. It had been a Dwarven song.

I headed into the tent, Eowyn passing me on her way out, her mind clearly somewhere else already as she only nodded briefly. She always seemed so busy. I reached for my bow and-

Legolas pushed me down, sudden, as he tugged me over onto my back, nearly crashing into me as we tumbled back onto my bed. He kissed me hard, again and again, his hair falling around us in some kind of curtain.

"Legolas?"

"Do not ask." He tugged my tunic open, slightly, lips pressing against my collarbone, all control in his face completely gone. "Please."

"Was it because I sung?" I couldn't help it. I had to ask. "I... I won't sing again?"

"Always sing. _Never_ stop." Legolas shifted back, slowly, to kneel in front of me on the bed. "Elves ...we find more beauty, more truth, in the voice of the one we love than any other. I would listen to you sing until the last moments of our life. Never stop."

He kissed me suddenly, rough, desperate, eyes shut as I felt his hands slide under the night-dress and push it up my legs. What about duty? All that stuff? But when his fingers slid up the inside of my thigh, and I was pushed back, I decided that no one would be surprised. Husband. Day before the war. Ect and so on.

Pleasure surged through me, heat, my body instantly responding to Legolas as he pressed his weight against me, his hips grinding through his leggings, mind starting to go foggy. Besides, if we didn't finish what he'd started, I'd scream.

It was fast, this explosion of desperate need, neither of us completely undressing, muffling our sounds against each other as people walked past completely oblivious to what was going on. For once, Legolas took only a few minutes before he'd found his release, and his fingers made sure that I wasn't far behind him. It wasn't like him to finish so fast or to finish before me.

He lay over me, panting, not even having broken a sweat, forehead against the side of my neck as we cooled down together. I pressed my lips against the side of his face, legs relaxing, muscles letting go of all tension. He just had to look at me funny and ...well, I was goo.

It didn't change the fact that something was bothering him.

"What's wrong with you?"

He frowned, shutting his eyes, and shook his head.

"_Legolas_."

"I will keep watch. Do not fear. I just-" He tried to smile, a sad smile. "-I do not understand our fate." Legolas slid back, slowly, pulling my dress down and re-arranging his leggings back up. I reached up to run a finger through his hair- making it all straight again for him.

"What do you mean?" He wasn't going to answer, was he? It was like earlier- the whole 'I should keep stuff back'. It made me angry. "Legolas, stop trying to protect me, it's really fu-" I cut off the word, gritting my teeth, a frustrated growl escaping instead

"I dream of your death." Legolas slumped back. His voice lowered. "Of your death, drowning within a cave. Then, in the river, where I found you. Upon the mountain. Falling in Moria. On the wall at Helm's Deep. We pass one death, only for me to foresee that you will die again, and-" He breathed in sharply. It tormented him. "-now, again, as you sung. I saw it again."

"I dreamed our death too." I muttered. His eyes slammed into mine. Fear. God, the Elf was afraid, like I'd never seen before in my life.

"When?"

"It was just a dream, Legolas. Worst fears. We're being tormented with our worst fears." It seemed t be working too. I stared at Legolas, who sat in front of me, one leg crossed and the other over my bed, and wondered how I'd ever thought him unearthly or 'immortal'. Yes, he was beautiful, but he had age already creating faint lines in his face as he frowned, and he was clearly not above the usual mortal things. Maybe he felt them less, I didn't know, but dealing with this kind of thing made someone deal with them worse. Okay. Elves were clearly very different. But … maybe not as different as they appeared. Just a different culture and language to us.

"What did you see?"

"I don't really remember. It was a dream. I was dying, you were dying too, and it was exactly what I don't want to happen. I think-" I changed my tone, Leglas hanging on my every word now, "-no, I know it. I don't know if it's possible for that ring thing to still be screwing with our minds but I think that's it. Boromir's been having these nightmares too about his father."

The fact that his father would die was beyond the point. Now that I thought about it, Boromir hadn't even told me what he'd seen, so maybe even he wasn't seeing the truth. "Legolas, I don't think we're seeing the truth."

Neither of us spoke a long time. Legolas was looking away, face unreadable now, but his breathing was slightly deeper, and his hand was now closed around both of mine. "The evil of Sauron does spread beyond Mordor."

"So he might be doing it. Right?" Well, okay, not him. The 'evil'. I had to admit I still didn't quite understand that part. Still, if three of us were now having nightmares that scared us, that upset us, it made some sense.

"It is possible. Yes." His shoulders slumped at the word, Legolas murmuring a string full of words in his own language as he shut his eyes, looking a ton lighter all of a sudden. "Yes. It was as if a fog had fallen over me. Fear."

"Fear, yeah. We're going to feel enough of that later. Well, I will, anyway." I muttered. I wasn't sure about him. The Elf seemed to struggle with death, mortal things, all of that, but when it came to battle, he was amazingly bombproof. Maybe that was the area of life Legolas was most experianced in, the most used to, and if Mirkwood was as dangerous as I'd heard, I supposed that wasn't so surpising. Monsters? Killing things? Sure, okay. Illness, death, disease? Myths, probably, amongst Elves. They probably only died in combat.

"Not with me by your side, my love." Legolas shifted closer, drawing me close, pressing his lips against my forehead. "You comfort me now. When it comes to fight once more, I comfort you."

"Works pretty good, doesn't it?" I smiled weakly, reaching up to tangle my fingers through his hair, half tempted to mess it up. "You okay?"

"Yes." Another deep sigh, another release of tension, his body releasing once more. "Yes. It as if a fog is lifted." Legolas surprised me as he stood up, sudden, his face relaxed under the mask.

Yeah, more or less.

"Why didn't you talk to Gimli about this?"

"I have."

Oh, of course he did. Before me. Should I be upset? Maybe, but I decided to focus on the 'Legolas isn't strung out anymore' aspect instead. He was standing now, back to his usual watchful attention,b back to the duty-distance that we'd adopted. Two feet apart. Somehow, as much as I loved the physical contact with him, as much as I loved the 'lovey dovey' stuff, _this_ sight was somehow much more reassuring to me right now.

"I feared speaking to you. That, by telling you, I would create it." Legolas added softer. "Gimli has watched your back, as have I, for I trust no other more than I trust Gimli."

That did soften me all over again, the warmth on his face as he mentioned the dwarf, and I smiled a little at that. This was what I'd wanted. Legolas and Gimli. Best mates. "Well, we better tell him it's probably ...that fog thing. Fear."

"I will. Boromir seeks you for training." His eyes had gone past me towards the tent wall, smile fading, back to his distant viewing/listening thing all over again.

"All right. Time to dress and get beaten up." I tried to say it cheerfully, flinging back the blankets, and dressed quickly. Still, Legolas kept his distance as he had before, and in his funny way I knew that meant everything was all good again. He was back to normal. I slid my wrist guards on, Legolas only moving forward to assist now, already tired of armour. We'd all worn it every day. My wrists were getting stronger, used to it now, the soft leather not so harsh on my skin as the heavier armour might have been.

Boromir appeared at the tent entrance, I heard his feet stop, and he called out in a surprisingly cheerful manner, "Wenduin, woman, out of bed. Your stance is still pitiful."

I checked Legolas once more, making sure that he was happier, inspecting his face and eyes carefully. He could hide things very well. Very, very well.

"I am comforted, Wenduin." He reached out to touch my arm. "Go."

Only when I was satisfied he was okay that I answered Boromir. "I'm coming."

"Hurry! The day is half over!"

I rolled my eyes, leaned forward to peck Legolas, and headed out to get beaten up again.

Boromir greeted me with a hug, a hunk of some poor animal in bread, and a mug of water. I rejected the corpse sandwich but accepted the rest.

"Thought the day was half over?" I asked, nodding towards the sun which was barely halfway up, Boromir g rinning.

"Tis, if you have been up as early as I have. Did I see-" Before I could stop him, he'd yanked the tent flap aside, clearly searching for Legolas. "-an Elf?"

"Did you?" To my relief Legolas wasn't there. Probably slid under the edge of the tent. "You must have Elves on the brain, Boromir."

"I have orcs on the brain-" He laughed again, his cheerful mood easily catching in me, and whacked his still shethed sword across my backside. "-as should you."

"Hey!" I jumped, face reddening as we got stared at, kicking at him. Legolas, who had gone back to his 'aloof Elf in the corner' position, twitched.

"I will not ask forgiveness for being happy."

"Because of battle?"

"Because-" He laughed again, shaking his head, and moved away towards the cleared area for training. "Forget that. Come, before I drag you."

"Don't you mean before I drag 'thee', you stupid medieval macoist?" I muttered, still red, several soldiers laughing at me as I followed behind Boromir. "I'll have a bruise now."

"Will look enchanting beside those you have from your Elf. Shall I bruise other areas?"

Oh god. I was about to get angry when I caught Legolas face. He, for just a moment, looked totally embarrassed and had slid away through the tents. Probably seeking the more sane comfort of Gimli or Aragorn. I couldn't help it. I laughed, which made Boromir laugh, because he hadn't been teasing me all this time. He'd been teasing Legolas. Looked like he might have cracked the hard nut a little too.

"Defend yourself!" Suddenly, a blade was shoved at me, and I barely got my own sword out in time to meet Boromir's crashing blade.

Boromir, like yesterday, didn't go easy on me. Smash, smash, bang, as we were watched, till my arm and shoulder ached, my back protested, my grip slippery on the handle of the sword. I escaped to the tent, or planned to, but as I turned, a flash of white announced Eowyn. Charging at me. Sword clashing on mine.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, once again, I was in a sparring match, and Eowyn more or less kicked my ass within two minutes. She looked satisfied, standing there with her sword in hand, still in a dress as I knelt on the ground with the blade against my neck, my tailbone screaming where I'd landed on it hard.

Boromir didn't bother hiding his laughter. If I had a bow I'd shoot it between his legs and wipe that look off his internal face. Eowyn seemed amused too, helping me to my feet, this beautiful feminine woman in her dress. "I could not resist. I have heard you better most men with your bow." She'd said the last part louder, Iwas sure of it, because some of the looks I got from the soldiers now wasn't flattering. Roughly translated it was probably 'Yeah, we all knew that woman was just here for their fun'.

"I could shoot off some things." I muttered. Pride. Bruised. So was bum.

"I would see that." Eowyn smiled as she saw something behind me. It was a beautiful smile, loving,even more so with her flushed face, and when I turned I saw Aragorn leaning against a tree watching us, his own face lit up with a smile. But he'd hesitated. His smile had faded as his eyes went over mine to Eowyn.

I didn't think she'd noticed. Behind me I'd heard Boromir ask, "Would you spar with me, my lady?" as Aragorn strode forward to help me to my feet.

"Haven't seen you much." I commented as we moved out of the way of Boromir and Eoywn, who had suddenly started to fight, noticing that Eomer too had come to watch. It was a mixture of pride and ...sadness? Or something.

"I have had much on my mind." Aragorn gazed up to where Eowyn and Boromir charged at each other. I turned to watch as well.

The two of them were so well matched, I'd never seen anything like it, swords just blurs of silver that caught sunlight, Eowyn's pale gold hair streaming around with her dress, Boromir's face a taunt mask of concentration. He was really focusing with her. Not like when he 'sparred' with me, we both knew swords weren't really my thing and so he didn't have to try too hard, but with Eowyn? Clearly a different story. She _knew_ what she was doing.

"Have you thought on our conversation?"

About Legolas. I didn't have to ask to guess what Aragorn meant. It was the last heavy one we'd had. "Well, yeah. I have."

"But you have not agreed."

I sighed. Legolas was no where to be seen now. When I looked at Aragorn, I saw no judgement, nothing except a kind of sadness there. Friendship. He was my friend. "I- I don't really know. According to Elf law, we're already married. Anyway. There's more important things. Like battle."

"True." Aragorn agreed quietly. "You should go to sleep early tonight. The riders of Rohan are used to riding hard and fast- it will be exhausting for us all more used to our feet."

"Do they sleep at night?"

"Of course." To my frustration Aragorn returned to the other topic straight away. "You have already joined in body?"

He was surprisingly frank and open for this world. I glanced at him, seeing no shame or anything, and guessed this might have to do with growing up around Elves. Elves who didn't seem to have the same hangups around their sexuality that humans did. I sighed. "Lothlorien. I didn't know it meant that."

"The people from your land do not marry for it?" He did seem a little surprised now.

"Not really, no." I added quickly, suddenly worried I was about to be judged for this, "I mean, some do. I think." But I hadn't known sleeping with Legolas would result in 'instant marriage'. I hadn't been upset about it before. Now? Now, now that I was talking with Aragorn about this subject I really felt uncomfortable about, it bothered me a little. Legolas had decided long before I'd even really been able to see what kind of sacrifice he was trying to make. "Aragorn, has he already-"

"Sacrificed the gift of his kin? No."

How Aragorn knew this, I didn't know, but it was a huge relief and I sighed. "Where is he?"

"He was sent to aid the cart of firewood, not ten minutes past, and is not here to listen." Aragorn didn't smile. "I have waited to speak to you."

"I don't know anymore now than I did then." I answered the question before he'd asked it. "I don't want him to die. I don't want to hurt him."

"I did not come to remind you." Aragorn's arm closed gently on my arm. "Only to offer my friendship, as your brother, that no matter what I would support you."

"Oh." A weak smile answered him. I was stressed again now. Why was this so damn difficult? "Thanks."

"Boromir would gladly marry you. You know this. And a friend for a husband is something not many wives can boast."

"I know." Maybe I should have smacked Aragorn for suggesting that. Maybe. Emotionally though, I was back to 'Oh crap, I'm ruining his life, and I might have already done it without thinking'. It was not helping how I felt. That dream of seeing him dying was haunting me again. Besides, it wasn't like Aragorn didn't understand. "Is that why you've been so warm to Eowyn?"

He flinched, brow creasing, watching the beautiful woman spar with Boromir, their swords echoing far and wide. A good two dozen men had gathered around by now to watch and cheer, I saw coin being passed, mostly behind Eomer's back. "Aye. I have also been faced with this choice."

"But you aren't married to Arwen."

Aragorn hesitated. I blinked up at him as he said, very slowly, "I-... am in a similar position to you now. We are fools when we love. She leaves, and with her, I loose a wife I had but one moment."

Oh, the poor bastard. I didn't answer him. Eowyn had Boromir on the ground, a sword against his stomach, and he had his blade across her throat. The fight was over and Aragorn moved away with one last squeeze of my arm.

Boromir would marry me. I knew that. As he met my eyes, laughter all over his face, crinkling his skin, I knew it and... I could honestly see that it would work. I liked Boromir. He liked me. Well, okay, I didn't _love_ him. But we would age together. The people of Gondor wouldn't find our marriage strange, or unusual, and there would be instant acceptance. He probably wouldn't force me to have sex with him, after what we'd thought had happened, and if we... if I decided to try for children... they would be instantly accepted, welcomed, and would have a happy life amongst their own people.

I didn't know why but this thought broke my heart. It really did. It wasn't that I didn't like Boromir. The problem was that I had already fallen for the stupid Elf.

Before Legolas could come back and see how upset I suddenly was, I headed off for the tent I shared with Eowyn, and spent the afternoon repairing clothing curled up at the end of my bed. It was easier and safer to face these domestic duties than to face the choice between condemning Legolas to an early death and children not accepted in his society, or breaking Legolas' heart.

Eventually sewing didn't do a thing. I crawled into bed, kind of depressed now, and tried to escape.

"You!" Eowyn's sharp voice and clap made me nearly fall out of bed. "Out of bed! Merry, it's safe to come in." She was moving around, lighting lanturns, filling our tent with a warm glow. "She was dressed."

"Why?" I blinked up at her, dazed, sleepy, 'action woman' back to her sharp self. "Huh?"

"Merry was afraid you were undressed in bed." Eowyn smiled as she opened the tent flap for Merry. It was dark outside now. "We must make sure everything fits and is ready for the morning."

"Exactly." Merry wandered in, gazing around, an armful of armour in his arms. "You should get yours, Wendy, I want to see it."

"Mine?" I stood up slowly, tossing blankets back over my bed, and shrugged. I nodded towards my pile of stuff. "It's there."

"Have you not been preparing it?"

"Uh-" I wasn't aware I had to. I blinked stupidly at Eowyn, who raised her eyes in exasperation and headed straight for my stuff.

"You and Merry!" She exclaimed. "Merry, lay yours out upon the floor." Eowyn was laying mine out, touching it, clearly finding problems with it that annoyed her. "Have you never treated or cared for this?"

"Well, uh..."

"At this looks to be well cared for." She was sliding the long silver knife to one side, my bow close by, but as her eyes went back to the thin leather tunic, the wrist guards, and the boots, I could tell Eowyn was not impressed. "This will all need to be replaced."

"Replaced! But I've had it since ..." Since when? Mostly since Rivendel, seeing as the Uruk Hai hadn't bothered taking it away. "Since Rivendel. The Elves offered it to me."

"It is all man-made and has not seen a day of care since it was given to you. Has it?"

I felt sleepy and dazed. "I need a coffee."

"I take that as a no." Eowyn lifted the tunic. She was fingering it, sliding things off, exposing very fine chain mail that I hadn't noticed. "The leather is useless. The smithy will need to repair it before tomorrow."

"It is?"

Now that she held it up to a light I could see lighter patches, darker patches, and felt guilt start to creep in. I supposed I had noticed the men fiddling with their armour. I just hadn't thought about it.

"It is lucky it is not the metal, Wenduin." If anything reminded me that I wasn't a warrior this did it big time. I felt totally embarrassed as she heaped the stuff into my arms, clearly not impressed with me anymore, Eowyn's disapproving gaze stabbing deep into my already bruised pride. She pointed at the door. "Go! There is not time to wait."

I went, nearly crashing into Eomer who had settled himself outside, his eyes going over me and then back to his fire with a dismissal that normally wouldn't have bothered me. Now that I felt totally stupid it kind of did. The whole 'you're a woman, you can't do war' thing that usually I ignored.

The blacksmith made me feel worse. I sat there, tired, watching as he literally tore off the leather and tossed it towards the fire it once he'd cut copies out of leather. Now that I saw them side by side, I saw that Eowyn had been right, that what I'd been wearing had been pretty shabby. There was no way it'd left Rivendel like that. I supposed I must have abandoned ...care. Or something.

"What are you doing?" Boromir's exclaim made me jump and the blacksmith look up. He was grabbing the leather, face darkening, looking pretty angry.

"Repairing."

"This is no ordinary leather. You cannot repair... twas not broken! Where is the rest? Restore it!" Boromir took one look at me, eyes seizing up my tired face, slumped shoulders, and I saw his temper fray a little more.

"Burnt."

Boromir, to my surprise, just about smacked the man over the head with my armour. Or what was left of it. Instead he grasped my arm, stuffing the rest under his arm, his teeth gritted. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know. Eowyn said it was ...too thin."

"It is supposed to be thin, Wenduin, but no stronger leather could you find." Boromir sat down heavily near a fire and held it up. He scowled at the spaces where the blacksmith had cut it away from the fine metal shape. "_Idiot_. Not you, Wenduin. You are not from here. You would not know. Burnt!"

"What kind of leather was it?"

"It would break your heart to know." Boromir wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he stared at the last remaining peace. "It breaks _my_ heart. Now what will you wear?"

"I don't know. You could let the poor man fix it. He was probably tired."

With a soft growl, Boromir dropped it, and shook his head. "I would … my friend, the finest blacksmith in Gondor, would have your poor tired friend's eyes gouged. Fix it! Had we an Elf who was a blacksmith, we could fix it, but-"

"Oh, calm down, it can't be that bad." I felt better though. I smiled weakly at him, edging him sideways, and stood up. "So we'll find something else."

Boromir followed, the blacksmith wisely having vanished and with some new fresher guy there, and under Boromir's direction, somehow we found something small and light enough. Sort of. It was amazing though- even though it was 'thin' and 'light' it was clearly heavier than what I was used to. The tunic fit a little looser, the thickness twice that of the other one, the smell of leather filling my nostrils. Now that I thought about it, the other one hadn't really had a smell, it hadn't really smelt like a dead animal. This one really smelt like one.

We stood inside the tent, Boromir helping me adjust it, his face still tense with anger. Okay. What kind of leather had that one been?

"I don't think they meant to ruin it." I said quietly.

"I know. But you are not used to this weight. You would need two, three days, just to be used to the changes." Boromir was yanking at a buckle. I winced as it pinched flesh.

"It is a bit weird. I can handle it." I lifted my arm. It rubbed in a different spot. I could already anticipate blisters there. Oh well.

"You should ride without it on. The weight may not seem much now-" Boromir shoved my hair out of his way, not even bothering to be gentle as he tried to yank at it, clearly dissatisfied, "-but ten hours on horseback, in battle, and you will feel it."

"Can you sharpen this?" Merry's voice drifted into the smithy's tent.

I wondered where Legolas was. I hadn't seen him since earlier. Ignoring Boromir's fussing, I gazed outside into the dark, but couldn't really see the edge of the cliff where he usually liked to stand.

"-and when Aragorn hears-" Boromir was continuing. He growled softly, finally managing to get it to fit just how he wanted, which wasn't that comfortable. I supposed armour wasn't really supposed to be. He gathered up the remains of mine and carefully wrapped it up. "-but I will take this back to Gondor."

"Can it be fixed there?"

"I told you. I would only trust an Elf or a dwarf with this." Boromir stared with heavy scrutany at the armour. "This would be better fitting but there is not time. They did not melt your sword down as well, did they? Destroy your bow?"

"No. They're still in the tent with Eowyn."

"Then there is some sanity left in the world." Boromir went outside, I followed, and he lifted one of the smaller swords that were piled up. Merry glanced up as we came out. "Now, we train."

"_Now_? What about early rest?"

"You have new armour, woman, so _draw_." Boromir was looking ten years older suddenly. I followed him outside and scrambled to drag the sword out as he suddenly slammed his sword at me. Blade on ...whatever they called the thing the sword was pocketed into... and I shoved him back as I managed to convince the sword to leave it.

The man was not nice. Smash, smash, bang, bang, and I started to see the difference. The problem. The armour, just chest armour, was only five or so kilograms heavier, but that made a lot of difference. I was stiffer, couldn't move as quickly, and the more I struggled, the more Boromir looked like he was about to charge after the blacksmith and smash his sword into him. There were other problems I noticed too though. Although my arms were free- it was more like a vest than anything- the armour itself was amazingly noisy compared to the last lot.

"How are you to fight!" Boromir raised his hands in defeat as, for the third time in half an hour he'd managed to get the sword into a killing spot.

"Same way everyone else does. One orc at a time. Right?" When my words didn't reassure him, his anger spilling out, anger, fear, concern, I tried to add, "Boromir, come on. It's done."

The remaining blacksmith took one look at Boromir, dropped the sharpened sword beside where Merry sat watching, and vanished into the darkness. Smart man.

"Speed was one thing you had. More than once I saw it save your life. And now... Here." He slammed the curve of a bow in my hand. "Tis not your size, and may be harder to draw, but try and see how you feel firing."

I could have argued or something. But I decided it was better to just try. Boromir left for a minute, returning with food, impatiently tucking his hair behind his ears as he slid them down. He pointed at the straw target. "Fire!"

I did, amazed at the difference between bows, cringing as the stupid tunic pinched my body. Ow. Ow. Boobs. Had to remember to bind them down tomorrow. Really get them out of my way. Ow.

"Enough! Merry, Wenduin, go to bed!" Boromir kicked something, barking orders, and when we blinked at him, he strode forward towards me and started to undo the chest armour. "I will see what I can do."

He was already heading out again.

"No, Boromir, you'll sleep." I batted his hands away as I tried to peel it off. "Relax." I checked it out as I did, finding it was fairly tough leather sewn or glued to sheets of metal. A vest shape- so my arms were bare.

"Wait. You have what?" When I opened the curtain, I saw the blacksmith hurridly offering something to Boromir, who snatched it and strode back to me. "On."

"Now?"

Apparently so. I dropped it over my head, expecting it to be heavy, but found it wasn't so bad. It was quieter than the other one. "Okay, so it's good. Can we-" I cut off, as Boromir prodded one side-boob, slapping his hand away.

" I must know if it fits properly." He muttered, ignoring me, pinching it. "It is loose."

"Isn't it supposed to be?"

"No."

Oh, well showed what I knew about armour. Which was virtually nothing. As I examined it, I found it was mostly just tiny rings of metal 'sewn' together with more metal. It was much quieter than the other one. "What do you wear in Gondor?"

"Plate armour." Boromir responded. "It would be too heavy for you."

"So... lots of metal?" I agreed then.

"You and Faramir fight better in light armour." Boromir gritted his teeth as he tugged at the ring-mail. He was actually sweating. I stared at him. Why did it worry him so much? Was he afraid for me suddenly?

"What did he wear?"

"A shirt, thick, difficult to cut-" He jabbed at the metal rings. "-and a thick leather tunic over. Light. Very quiet. Fitted to his body so that it would not hamper his movement." Boromir sat back, still annoyed, crossing his arms as he gazed up at me. "If this happened to him, I would have the man's head."

I sat down, awkward, wondering how the hell I'd sit on a horse for three days if I could barely sit. It was tight around my waist and hips- clearly made for a man's narrower hips- and too loose up top. Not comfortable. I probably shouldn't have sat down. When Boromir saw it- how hard it was to wear sitting- a vein started to throb in his temple.

"If your Elf could see this..." He growled softly.

"I don't know where my Elf is." Suddenly, this really worried me. I had this vague memory, vision, whatever it was called, of Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn vanishing through the gap in the mountain. Path of the dead or something. "Think we should locate him."

"I agree." Boromir was agreeing for a different reason. "Tis the best here. Ride without it, if you can, it will not help your endurance. Here." He yanked something over my head, some kind of shirt thing that went over it, and a belt. "Wear it as we look. Get used to it."

"I'm ..." Merry's voice cut in. He seemed kind of embarrassed to talk, like he felt like a third wheel, his eyes going from me to Boromir. "I should sleep."

"You should." Boromir agreed. He smiled, a faint warmth there finally showing, reaching out to slap his hand against Merry's shoulder. "I did promise to talk with you. Tomorrow. Early."

"Tomorrow, early." Merry agreed. He stood up and hurried away, glancing back, this bizarre expression on his face as it went from myself to Boromir. What was that about anyway?

I was relieved to see Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn. All here. Eating. Legolas glanced up, his eyes critically going over my new armour, Gimli grunting.

"What's that?"

"Her new armour. The blacksmith burnt the last." Boromir crossed his arms. To my amazement, Aragorn flinched, Gimli growled softly and stood, Legolas ….well, on the outside nothing changed. I knew him well enough to know that tiny shift to the left meant that he was bothered. This was clearly exactly what Boromir had hoped for. He added, anger rising in his voice again, "Let us go talk to this smith."

"It's not a big deal. I've got a few days to get used to it. Food?" I hadn't eaten, I remembered, Boromir had been too busy clucking over me to bother. Legolas held out his barely touched plate and I went for the vegetables. Meat wasn't nice anymore.

"Do you still have your boots?" Aragorn asked, his eyes going to my bare feet, and when I nodded he sighed. "She is right. It is done. Let it go, Boromir."

"_Let it go_!" Clearly the wrong words. Boromir almost shouted and several heads twisted in our direction. "Tomorrow, we ride to battle, and you ask me to let it go?"

"Yes." Legolas lowered the plate and moved his eyes back to the fire.

I felt fingers yanking at the armour, Boromir stripping it off me right then and there, so I raised my arms. It was probably better to just go with him. He turned, the ring-mail shirt in hand, and vanished into the tents again.

"Come sit." Aragorn patted the log beside him. I sat down, relieved that I wasn't wearing it now, tugging my clothing back into place. "He's afraid for you."

"What's new?" I felt like I was missing something though. No one spoke, Legolas met my eyes briefly, and still … no clue. Oh well.

The sound of a shout, Boromir's shout, and a commotion somewhere made us all jump. Aragorn jumped to his feet suddenly, moving away towards it, calling to us, "Let me handle him."

"You should rest." Legolas said softly. "With us tonight."

"Agreed." Gimli said softly. He and Legolas shared a look, a look which completely left Aragorn out of it, and I got it. Something was going on. "Early sleep, do you think?" He stretched, yawned, yet... it seemed kind of fake.

"Aragorn will be resting. Boromir is sleeping with him tonight." Legolas had that faraway 'listening to something' expression so I had to assume it meant Aragorn was telling Boromir this.

"Boromir just punched the blacksmith, didn't he?" I muttered.

Legolas nodded. He had this half-smile, half sad, half amused, shaking his head. "I am glad he is angry."

"Why?"

He didn't answer.

Okay. Something really weird was going on. Only Gimli was looking directly at me now. I gritted my teeth, annoyed, and stood up. "Well, I should sleep."

"Yes. I will wake you." Legolas held his plate up to me again. "My bed is unused. Use it."

"Okay, fine." With a last glance at him, a last hesitation, I headed for his tent. What the hell was going on? Everyone was acting weird all of a sudden. I knew something was going on and I didn't like it.

I crawled into bed, suddenly exhausted, and decided that I'd question them later. Nap time.

When I woke, the tent was empty, and I was alone. My head POUNDED, my mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool, and I was completely groggy and disorientated all over again. It felt like I had been drugged or something.

When I managed to open one eye... the sunlight, the complete silence, the absence of voices that this place always seemed to have...

Scrambling to my feet, my head swaying with the effort, I tried to get to the door and stared out of the flaps, bright sunlight blinding me and sending a fresh wave of nausea and pain through my head.

That fucking Elf. He'd drugged me. And now everyone was gone. I swore openly, nearly falling over, my head spinning.

Well, almost everyone, a startled woman had jumped when I'd sworn, her face draining of blood. Oh come on. Swearing wasn't that bad, was it?

Apparently it was.

When I threw up, the woman must have changed her mind about running from the mad swearing woman because she hurried over with a mug of water.

"What time... how long since everyone left? Aragorn? The soldiers?" Since Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli left? What about Boromir?

"It is after lunch, my lady. The Lord Aragorn left last night. Theodan King and the soldiers left this morning upon the break of day. The Lady Eowyn-" The woman hesitated. What was that in her face? Loyalty? "-rests."

A flat out lie and we both knew it. "Sickly, right?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, I know where she is." I muttered. When my stomach threatened to throw up again I drank long and slow, eyes shut, stomach churning. "Bloody Elf."

"You and she seemed sick with the same.I hope she wakes soon." The woman continued to say, looking past me, and I turned.

Eowyn was in bed.

I hadn't even realised- I was in our tent again. And there she was, tossing and turning, Merry right there beside her, white faced.

"Wendy." He said quietly.

Oh fuck. Oh, oh _fuck_. Here we were. Fighting off some sleeping drug. The army gone. Me? Didn't matter where I was, not really, but Eowyn?

She was supposed to be pretending to be a man right now. Off to meet her destiny.

This was bad. This was very very bad.


	15. The battle for the White City

"Get horses ready. The fastest you've got." I snapped, the woman blinking at me as if I was mad, but I tried to shake off the drug. Whoever had done this was a dead man. I had to assume it was a man. I didn't want to believe that a woman would betray us right now like that. "I need water. Um..."

Moving forward, the ground swayed under me, I almost tipped forward. Merry was up and grabbing me straight off.

"It's too late, Wendy. They left without us." He was really dejected and depressed. "We're not good enough."

"Bullshit." I searched for bow. "Merry, grab us some armour, okay?"

"But-"

"We have to leave. Eowyn asleep or not."

When no one moved, not Merry, not the woman, I wanted to kick something. Punch someone. Do something assertive and manly. "Where is Gandalf when I need him! Seriously! Horses! Armour! We don't have time to chat about the weather!"

This long sentence was enough to create a fresh wave of vomit, right on the fur, causing the woman behind me to let out a little shriek of horror. I felt terrible about it but I didn't bother saying it. Witchking. Eowyn was supposed to kill that stupid ...Nas thing. Nascar? Nope, wrong word, I was sure of it. "Get the horses or I do it again!"

Holding the fur rug hostage. This apparently worked. She vanished within seconds. \\

"This is a ...vision thing, isn't it?" Merry said, very softly, his hands still helping me stay steady and upright. When I nodded, he squared his jaw and stood up straighter. For once I was glad he wasn't a child, glad that for all his cuteness the hobbit was actually a grown man, because he didn't bother asking any questions. "Right. Okay. I'll get the armour."

"I don't know how we're going to do this except to ride like crazy." I shut my eyes. "Someone drugged us."

"Legolas and Boromir. They were talking about keeping you safe." Merry eyes were avoiding mine. "I-" Merry hesitated. "Overheard. I didn't mean to. Don't tell them. They also said-"

"What?"

He looked completely guilty now. "I didn't mean to overhear."

"What?"

"About you. That you should ...stay away from both of them until... you decided."

Till I decided who I'd stay with? Like I hadn't already slept with Legolas enough to show him that I was with him? Okay, okay, I was still unsure, and maybe I'd never be sure of this. Who the hell did they think they were deciding _this_? Now those two were partners in crime, now that Legolas had forgiven him? A low growl rumbled in my throat, a growl that impressed me, as I grasped another thing of water and drank away more vomit. Those two were in DEEP DEEP trouble. "I won't." Why the hell would they do that?

"I didn't think it was a good idea. I was going to tell you. But you were asleep when I snuck in."

"And he did Eowyn too?"

"Yeah. She was really sad. Boromir gave her a drink. Wanted to protect her too. It was his idea but Aragorn agreed. All four of them left in that path after."

I really shouldn't have told him who she was going to marry. _Really_ shouldn't have told him.

When my body threatened to go back to sleep, I grasped Merry before he could leave, and added, "And... water. Some of that kings foil. Tins foil?" I wasn't trying to be clever. It was literally the only herb I knew in this place.

"I'll see what I can find."

"Hurry." I remained standing, leaning against a chest in the tent, staring outside. Most of the good horses would be gone by now. Come to think of it, all of the good horses would be gone by now. Oh man. This was really bad. "What I'd give for a flying eagle or a dragon right now."

Panic threatened to flood me. I felt overwhelmed suddenly by all of it. Eowyn here. Boromir alive. Boromir, drugging his future sister-in-law, probably because I told him who she was going to be. Yeah. I'd screwed up some things in this world pretty badly. Some of my grogginess was starting to fade though.

Now that I was awake though, I found myself back in a dress, my hair combed and braided, Legolas necklace still there. So someone had clearly changed me. Would it be him? I didn't think so. I suspected it was more likely Eowyn's maid- she'd probably be used to helping. I tugged irritably at the soft creamy white of the dress, much like Eowyn's style, and went to rummage around for more practical clothing. The braid wasn't a big problem though- it just kept my hair out of my face. For once I didn't care in the slightest who saw my mutilated ears. They were just ears and I could still hear.

As I slid around the tent, I checked in chests, moving dresses, shoes, and things around. Nothing. No pants, no shirt, nothing of use. I did find a letter with my name on it and ignored it for now. If this was an apology from one of the men then I'd carry it with me and make them read it. Out loud. In front of everyone.

"My lady?" Merry dropped things down. "They are smaller but there wasn't much left. I'll go back for the rest."

"They might not fit well but they'll have to do." I muttered. "Don't forget yours too."

"Me?"

"You're coming, of course." Wasn't it obvious? I bent to lift my bow up, felt the world start to move again, and decided that I'd have to stay as upright as possible for a while. I was already dreading the ride down the cliff road.

Merry actually lit up a little, a warm smile across his face, clearly surprised. "Thank you! Um. Here. I found it. I think Strid, I mean, Aragorn, I think he just crushes it and puts it in water. You should drink it before you do anything."

He was right. I poured another cup, my third, and crushed the herb things into it. Straight down the hatch and ...did I feel better already? Or was that my expectation? Frankly... I didn't care. It was working. When Merry was gone I used the chamberpot, too distracted to care, and headed out.

Frustrated, I slipped out the tent and went to the other tents, one by one, still fighting waves of exhaustion and nausea. I didn't really care who I was taking this from. I found Aragorn's tent and the clothing they'd given him. It was well made. Not really surprising, given that he was outed as the future King of Gondor, so that worked. I didn't want the fancy silky soft stuff. The rougher practical stuff was perfect. Some for me, some for Eowyn, I'd give it back when we were done.

When I returned the rest of the armour was there, including Merry's small stuff, and Merry was trying to dress.

"Here. You help me, I'll help you. Once I change."

Merry went to leave, but I grabbed him, and shrugged. "Just turn around. Doesn't really matter right now... we've got to hurry. You pull on what you can."

"What about Eowyn?"

"When I'm changed, you stay turned around, and I'll change her." The thought did kind of embarrass me, and it clearly really embarrassed Merry, but there just wasn't time for it. If someone saw us changing then they might try and stop us. "Besides, we might get stopped, I don't think we're supposed to leave. So we have to stay in here." And if Eowyn's maid sent a guard... "So turn around! Keep watch."

Hastily I undressed, making Merry undo some strings where I couldn't reach, my usual 'body shame' put aside. No time. Dress, folded half-heartedly and tossed aside, I tugged on the loose pants, the belt making them easier, binding up my chest as tight as possible. At least Legolas and Boromir hadn't had the nerve to take my weapons. I was half tempted to take off Legolas' leaf necklace. He was in the dog house big time right now.

Then, with Merry watching the tent entrance, I stripped off Eowyn. Oh man. Would people envy me right now. I wasn't attracted to women but even I could see she was beautiful, all slender and willowy, with muscles I would have killed for. Those lean strong kind that looked thin but held a lot of strength in them. Endurance. Okay. I wasn't looking at her as a woman, not really, I was really seeing the warrior. And I admired it. She needed more belt than I did- I was, even after all this time, still pretty thick in the waist and hips compared to Eowyn. Compared to most women it seemed in this world.

But she was pale, as pale as she had been the first time I'd seen her, and her face was etched once more with grief. Aragorn must have told her. The poor woman. I shoved Aragorn into the doghouse with Legolas and Boromir, as I tightened her belt, because that hadn't been fair to Eowyn. The first hope she'd had and he'd only been testing out the waters.

"Nearly done?" Merry whispered.

"Nearly." Face reddening, I managed to bind Eowyn's chest too, abandoning the idea to skip it. The problem with breasts was that they were tender, they stuck out, and they were a pain in the ass when they got in the way. I tried my hardest not to see her breasts but ...well, it just didn't work, and I kicked my shame away. Shirt, buttons, and done. "Okay."

A hand clasped my wrist, suddenly, Eowyn's eyes snapping open. She sat up, swayed, and vomited over the side of the bed.

"What..." Eowyn took about two seconds to realise, as I had, that it was daytime and it was too quiet. Two seconds and she was trying to stand, swaying, heading for the door.

"Wait, Eowyn!"

"My lady!" Merry grasped her as she nearly toppled over him.

"I am ...dressed differently?" She nearly fell over. "The army is gone."

"You noticed faster than I did." Wasn't that surprising either. I grasped her arm, helping her stand upright, my own body wanting to join hers in trying to collapse. Quickly I summarised it for her. "We were drugged by our _loving_ men. It's midday now."

Eowyn's eyes snapped from me, to my man outfit, to the pile of armour, Merry's body half covered in what he could get on alone, to the collection of weapons, and as groggy as she clearly was, she got it. "And you mean to chase them before we are seen. We are to hide as men?"

"Exactly. Here." I thrust the jug of water at her, crushed more of the kingsfoil stuff into it, and the mug. "Sit and drink. I've started to feel better so you will soon. The water probably gets rid of it."

"I had intended on this." Eowyn looked green, suddenly, and once again she'd vomited. This almost got me doing it all over again. Maybe this was our bodies way of getting rid of the drug? "I had planned it. My armour is... under my bed."

Merry and I helped Eowyn back to the bed. She sat down, not arguing as she started to drink mugfuls of the water as fast as she could. I drew out her things, where she'd hidden them, her spear, her sword, even her saddle. She'd been prepared.

"I'll put your boots on." Merry knelt before her, drawing across leather boots, and Eowyn let him as I dropped her armour over her head.

"You dress, Wenduin, we must hurry. Do not worry about water for me. I will sweat the drug out. The faster we leave, the better. My Uncle would have left at sunrise." Eowyn dropped the jug to one side as she tried to get the other boot on. Her hands were shaking as she did it.

Somehow the three of us managed to get each other ready. The heavier armour that Boromir had rejected yesterday, the sheets of metal glued and sewn to toughened leather, was what Merry had found and so it was what I put on over the lighter ring-mail. My arms were free- I could shoot arrows. That was what counted. I could handle being tired.

"My brother did not wish for me to come but he would not have done this." Eowyn was saying, as she knelt to tug my boots closed, her face much clearer than it had been earlier. "I think."

"Doesn't matter who did it. We just need to catch up to them and stay hidden."

"They will rest for a few hours each night- we will overtake them if we ride hard." Eowyn stood up. Merry handed her a helm, she slid it over her head, hiding her face. I slid one over my own head.

The three of us stared at each other, Eowyn and myself now looking like 'Regular Rohan men' in our dirty ring-mail and older leather tunics, with Merry clearly a hobbit. We only looked for a second, before we were slipping out the tent and heading for horses. I had to trust Eowyn's knowledge of horses to know who to pick. Tinkerbell? Not here. Someone must have grabbed her. I couldn't say I blamed them- she was a big strong horse. I was a bit disappointed though.

"Here." She was sliding reins into my hands, a big chested horse staring at me as it danced around. "Not as well trained but-"

"We're riding like bats out of hell, so it doesn't matter?" This horse, as beautiful as it was, was clearly very young and very jumpy. Okay. I'd have to try.

"Bats out of Hell?" Eowyn was tightening her saddle on another horse, a brown horse with the same big chest and jumpy dance.

"As fast as we can."

Eowyn nodded. She glanced past me, suddenly, as she heard her maid's calls and the clank of armour. "Yes. These two are young, never been in battle, but will run fast. Quick- My maid comes with guards."

"I hope you know the way!"

I mounted quickly, Eowyn doing the same, and she lifted Merry onto the horse in front of her. The horse hadn't even waited for me to mount before it started forward, Eowyn hurriedly kicking her horse to lead.

With our horses being so young and eager to run, we almost galloped down that cliff road, more than once I nearly got pitched off the edge of the cliff as my horse took each curve at a speed perfect for starting a heart attack. Eowyn rode ahead of me, her own horse fast, hooves sliding and skidding on the loose rock everytime we took a curve at a dangerous speed.

Once we were down there though, once we'd survived the ride, no one even looked twice. They probably assumed we had been drunk or something. Drunk men, trying to run to battle, not worth anything more than a dirty look. Eowyn rode ahead, her dark green cloak streaming behind her, my own pale grey clock from Lothlorien probably doing the same thing.

If Eowyn didn't know the way, it was obvious from the ground where thousands of horses had already charged, leaving a long clear trail for us to follow. The three of us rode fast and hard, heads down, our horses more or less given free rein with only us to point them in the right direction.

The day dragged out, the sun beating down on the two of us, with only the sound of pounding hooves and jangling metal in my head. I was thirsty, but had forgotten water, and didn't dare let go of Speedy's saddle long enough to feel for a water bottle somewhere behind it where there was probably saddle bags. Eowyn had some- so I probably did too. Speedy was thirsty too, all frothy, the smell of horse sweat and fur filling my noise and mingling with the smell of my sweat.

Boromir had been right about the weight of this armour. It was hard to wear. Hours of riding, sun beating on us, and I started to feel exhausted and worn out. It was sheer anger maybe that kept me going- or desperation, because I knew where Eowyn belonged, and it was partly my fault. Mostly. I should have kept my mouth shut.

It grew dark, cold, and we slowed, it was harder to see the trail at such a fast pace. Anyway, our horses were tired too, and probably needed to calm down.

Eowyn moved her horse back so we were side by side, some kind of slow run, calling, "These horses are not used to such long charges. We must ride slower for a time. Maybe rest."

"Okay."

"Are you tired?"

"Of course. Aren't you?"

She nodded, face pale and grim, Merry nodding in front of her. I hoped we'd catch up. Six hours ahead, give or take, didn't seem like much but it really was. I called, after five minutes over the loud hooves and metal, "Can we catch them?"

"Tonight? No." Eowyn called. "Tomorrow."

After some time, we had to rest, we didn't have a choice. The horses were threatening to throw us, they were so tired, and I was struggling to stay awake. I suspected Eowyn and Merry had the same problem.

"We will rest as well as we can tonight." Eowyn said, dismounting, tugging her helm off. She was o tired and sad looking. "Thnakyou for ...waking me. I may seem otherwise but …. it is good to have a woman on my side."

"No problem." I knew she had to come. It wasn't just because I knew she wanted to fight.

Merry vanished into the darkness.

"Even if you are not to be my sister." She added quietly. The words were heartbreaking and I felt my heart twist painfully for her. Eowyn looked away into the dark. She was the ice maiden again now. "I will accept this arrangement to … this Lord Faramir."

"No!" My soft protest made her blink at me in confusion. "It's not an arrangement. It was just something. It's not decided for you. It's your choice."

"My choice?" She smiled sadly. "Is it?"

"_Yes_. I told you. It was a vision of something... something that might happen. That might make you happy."

"I made a choice. Or I believed I had." She breathed out slowly, watching as Merry returned to us, adding softer, "Perhaps my judgement is not always to be trusted."

"No, Eowyn. If you don't love Faramir then I'd never, never let you marry him." I went quiet as Merry flopped beside us, curling up in his gery cloak, face white. "No matter what I saw." Even if it was fate. Or whatever.

She didn't respond. Aragorn went further into the doghouse, as far as I was concerned, Eowyn's face heartbreaking. Maybe it was the tiredness that made it so easily seen. I wished I had my phone to take a photo of her face, to wave it in HIS face, and kick him.

That night I slept, too tired to do much else, and when I woke it was already dawn. Eowyn glanced up at me as I sat up in a panic.

"How long have we slept?" I stared around me in shock.

"What we needed to sleep. Today's ride will be fast and hard once more. Tonight, we may not sleep so well." Eowyn responded. She stood up slowly and helped me to my feet. Every part of my body protested.

"Merry?"

"Getting us water." She nodded into the distance. "Get ready to ride. We will catch up to my kin."

"Or else!" Merry's call as he jogged back over made her face crack, just somewhat, break her grimness a little.

"Or else." I agreed.

Again we rode all day, rode fast and hard, our horses slowing faster today than they had yesterday. In and out, I drifted out of sleep, sometimes half-awake as I dreamed of nightmares, or of Boromir, or of Legolas, or Aragorn, sometimes even Frodo. Spiders. Elves. Circus clowns. It grew dark again and Eowyn did not slow down, so I didn't.

It was very late, I didn't know how late, when we finally saw their camp in the distance. Hundreds of tiny dotted fires lay across hill and valley, shapes moving, some flags reflecting the light.

As we grew closer we saw that men slept, thousands of them, little fires dotted across the plains. Eowyn slowed, nodding to me and gesturing to be quiet now, and slowly we traced our way through the crowd.

"We will leave the horses and rest." Eowyn said softly. She was dismounting. I did the same and saw my poor horse was just about ready to drop- Speedy was trembling, head and ears drooping, nose down. "Poor beasts."

"They did good."

"They will not last another day." Eowyn said quietly. She was undoing their bridles. "We must find horses here."

"What, someone elses horse?"

"There will be some spare. Merry, lead these two to the edge of camp and let them free." Eowyn pointed at the tree we stood beside. "We will wait for you here."

Merry nodded, taking the reins, and vanished for ten minutes. As I stood there, I felt my tiredness wash over me, the urge to just curl up and sleep overwhelming the 'we really need more horses'. Eowyn was struggling too. She leaned against the tree. It worried me- if she'd done what she was supposed to do, leave with the others, ride at the right pace, she might be fine for battle. What if she was too exhausted by the time we got there?

"We must rest." She said quietly, as if reading my mind. "But we must get horses now."

"I know."

When Merry returned, also as tired as us, we made our way to the edge of the camp where horses were tied up. Most, I'd noticed, had been left beside their riders. These ones were alone with just a guard. Merry stayed hidden, Eowyn's voice going rough, as she informed the man, "Our horses gave up."

"Already?" The man didn't seem surprised at all. "I've heard that six times tonight. Will be no horses spare by the time we reach the battle. Better make sure you care for these two. Next time you come to me, there'll be none left."

Eowyn nodded, heading inside, and led out two more horses. Two more brown ones, I guessed in the darkness of night, sleepy and placidly following us to where Merry had hidden. Only when we had them secure did we finally rest.

I lay there for five minutes, almost too tired to sleep, trying to ignore the feeling of hard ground, of hard armour digging into me, dirt, rocks, the smell of musky horses, sweaty men and, as a man peed somewhere, the smell of urine. My sword, although on my raised hip, made my belt tug at my stomach uncomfortably. My bow, which I held in my hands, seemed too bright, too obvious, too Elvish, and I kept wanting to cover it for fear that someone would see it wasn't standard Rohan stuff. When I did manage to sleep it was an uneasy one, filled with nightmares and broken frequently.

We got about an hour's rest before everyone was called to ride once more. It wasn't enough, Eowyn looked exhausted, I felt like I could cry almost, except that I had to pee. Somehow, we managed to pee without being caught, thanks to Merry standing in front of us, and then we blocked him from view.

I had to remind myself that it was lucky we'd caught them at all. That we'd gotten an hour's rest. Merry struggled to get up, Eowyn helping him, her eyes scanning the crowds.

"We must avoid that banner and that one." She said softly to me, nodding towards where a banner was held up. It was her Uncle, I had to guess, and her brother.

"Okay." I agreed.

Eowyn grasped my hand with one of hers, Merry's hand with the other, saying softly, "We can do this. Last a day before food and rest."

"We can." Merry agreed. "Together."

"We can." I repeated her words. I still felt tired though. I hoped we'd be okay.

It was amazing, as men re-mounted in the darkness of pre-dawn, how people just accepted us as being apart of the crowd. Either I or Eowyn looked like women now, we didn't smell like what they probably thought women smelt like, and even Merry they either didn't see or ignored.

The day passed, much too slowly, as if I was in a daze. I did my hardest to stay awake. It was impossible though, too often I'd feel my head droop or my body dip sideways, or I'd struggle to keep my eyes open, so that they were fluttering badly almost all the time. Anxiety about keeping Eowyn close, which she seemed to share as she was almost always bumping legs with me during the ride, kept me a little focused. My horse did not need direction though, thankfully, with so many horses to follow.

Aches, pains, bruises, they seemed to turn into a regular routine thing. The armour that Boromir had rejected pinched, rubbed and I could feel it rubbing skin away against my shoulder. The sunshine burnt my face where it slid in through the helm's face cover, burnt my hands, my legs kept cramping in the saddle and I could only just sit there and wait for it to stop. Halfway through the day I had to pee and when I saw a man relieve himself off the back of the horse, just point and squirt, it was less shock and more torture for me. Things weren't that easy with a woman bladder.

And the thirst.

I was too thirsty to be hungry. My mouth screamed for water, just the slightest bit of moisture, until I found myself licking my lips where my sweat had dripped. Salty sweat? Bad choice. But so tempting. It almost hurt to be this thirsty.

Beside me, Eowyn and Merry did not suffer any better than I did, one of Eowyn's arms permantly around Merry as he struggled to keep awake. She had to keep swapping arms, sometimes riding without holding reins, getting Merry to hold them. Eowyn would try and rub her aching muscles through the ring-mail top. But I suspected she wasn't really getting through it, she kept wincing and cringing, reaching down to rub her own thighs.

All morning I feared we'd be seen, that we were too obvious with our pain, but as I dared more and more to look around, I didn't see a single man on horseback who wasn't struggling too. Who wasn't exhausted, or dealing with muscle cramps, no one was comfortable. I saw plenty of head nods, or body slumping, and no judgement.

The truth was, as exhausted as we were, we weren't the only ones struggling. Myself and Eowyn wore thinner, lighter armour than most, and we were having trouble. They must have been exhausted.

The entire army was called to stop as the sun sank low in the sky. It was still fairly light though. As I dismounted near Eowyn, she moved closer to whisper softly, "The army must be tired. We would not stop so soon."3+

"We'd be leaving in the dark then."

She nodded. She looked so dejected and tired, reaching up to pull off her horses things, Merry and us taking turns to finally relieve ourselves. Food was handed out, food that I could barely eat, and when Eowyn took off her helm I half expected someone to notice she was a woman. No one did.

"My Uncle wrote to me." She was saying, softly, mostly to herself. "To rule Rohan in his stead. Did he know I would be made to sleep?"

"Maybe he thought you were just fast asleep." I tried. It sounded lame.

"And to smile." Eowyn had put aside her half-eaten stew. Now she was speaking to herself, gazing out. "How can I now?" She finished before Merry, standing, gazing away towards where her Uncle must have been in the distance. "Take heart Merry, Wenduin, for it will soon be over." She was so sad, so depressed, that it worried me. Eowyn was exhausted. Being forced to stay back, Aragorn's rejection, everything... Merry and I exchanged glances.

"My lady. You are fair and brave and have much to live for-" Merry spoke quickly, putting aside his food, no small thing for any hobbit to have done. She turned to stare at him as if she'd only really remembered he and I were there, as if she'd only spoken out of habit, some reignition returning to her eyes. "-and many who love you. I know it is too late to turn aside. I know there is not much point now in hoping. If I were a knight of Rohan capable of great deeds…but I'm not. I'm a Hobbit. And I know I can't save Middle Earth. I just want to help my friends; Frodo, Sam, Pippin. More than anything I wish I could see them again."

She smiled, and for once I saw some trace of warmth there, something as she stared at Merry. His words made me hurt.

I knew, I'd known when we'd started off, that I was riding into a hard battle. That we might not see them again. I wasn't exactly a warrior either. What if this was where I died? If, for once, Legolas had seen the right death? As angry as I was with him, with Boromir, with all of them, I felt a kind of sad longing once more. I wished I could see them again too. They weren't here to watch my back now. They weren't here to help me in battle. Even Eowyn would be separated from me in this, I knew that, and I knew I was going to be separated. On my own.

A horn made us all gaze up, a horn that was blown long and hard.

"To battle."

"To battle." Merry agreed.

Slowly, we stood, and got back on our horses. Riding through the night. This was it then.

I had never experienced any kind of ride like this before, _never_, this terrible anticipation that came with it. The time dragged out, and with it, my anxiety, until I just couldn't be sleepy, no matter how little sleep we'd had the night before.

I'd see lights, or think I did, think it was dawn, but it never was. Eowyn vanished during the charge. There was only me now, me, with the smell of sweat, horse, musk, the pain of metal rubbing against skin, legs cramping, and yet all of that was nothing compared to the fear. I was already afraid. Would it be wrong of me to turn and run? No one, if they knew I was a woman, would blame me. They would insist on it. All I had to do was reveal myself …

But I didn't do it.

I didn't know why. I just couldn't do it. It was this commitment, this thing I had decided to do, and ...I wasn't sure if I'd survive it or not. Some part of me wasn't sure I would. Legolas wouldn't have betrayed my trust like that without good reason. Nor would Boromir. As much as I wanted to view them as bad people right now, I knew them better than that, and …

If Boromir hadn't been such a stupid fool, I'd be in Gondor right now, risking death a whole other way!

Maybe, during the ride, I did sleep. I didn't know. But when I saw the first light of dawn finally on the horizon, when I first started to smell the smell of smoke, of blood, hear the rumble and feel the vibration of battle, I knew it was time.

Without a word, without an order, we suddenly had come over the edge of a slope, the horses moving into a formation without my aid. I was with strangers, men who were willing to die for an ally, the early morning light exposing pale faces, fearful grim ones, everyone fighting with the same urge to turn and run.

I was a few rows back, drawing out the sword, and then sliding the bow into a better position. That was what I was good at. As long as my horse ran in the direction the others had, I'd have free hands.

A horn sounded, suddenly, echoing across the sounds of battle just over the hill. A horn from one of us, I realised, announcing us. And as the horn sounded, the horses moved forward of their own accord, following the lead rider. Theodan King.

As we came over the clearing, I saw it, and fear came back. Not just fear though. Adrenaline.

Thousands of orc. The White City, burning, in ruins. Or lots of it. And in the distance, the great Elephants, bigger than I could have ever dared to picture.

Theodan was charging up and down, shouting orders, orders I couldn't hear. It was only when he started to shout that I heard the words, echoing back over me.

"Arise! Arise riders of Theoden. Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered, a sword day, a red day ere the sun rises!"

Spears rose around me, swords, and I raised my sword, copying. I wanted to pee suddenly. This was more, more than I'd ever seen, ever faced, and I tried to keep my mind, tried to not freak out here and now. War? I suddenly had the urge to spend the rest of my life raising cute baby bunny rabbits. Just bunnies. Who needed war?

Legolas' face flashed before my eyes, the last time he'd really smiled at me, and I tried to focus.

"Ride now, ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! DEATH!"

The word was screamed out, all around me, and I heard my own voice screaming it as if it was no longer my voice. "Death!"

The word, echoed, repeated over and over, and I screamed it with them. Last traces of exhaustion faded, fear vanishing under adrenaline, my senses heightening somehow. I couldn't explain it. Only, suddenly, I was aware of my horse's fast panicked heartbeat, the smell of fear coming from the soldiers around, clank of metal, heavy breathing from both man and horse. Merry and Eowyn's heavy breathing somewhere.

And beyond, I could see Theodan's face, I could see the hairs sticking out of the back of his helm, the sweat on his brow. These things appeared, as we screamed, and then suddenly the cry was called as clearly as if it was beside my ear.

"Forth Eorlingas!"

My horse reared, as did several others, as the charge began. It was slow at first, the horses still under their fear, I could sense it. But the faster we ran, the more their instincts kicked in, urged by men and horse alike. Ground shook under us, my nostrils and mouth filled with the dust kicked up from hooves, hair streaming from mane and tail.

I grasped my sword harder, hearing a shout that barely registered until there was a horse going down just a pace beside me, till an arrow whistled past my ear. Arrows. They whistled through the air, horses crumpling, or men falling, their horses continuing the charge even with their riders dead or dragged behind. The horror of this couldn't be faced. Suddenly, the first riders had clashed into the Orc, and I clashed too, sword out, slashing at any Orc close enough that had missed the horse's trampling hooves. We leapt, jumped, ran over body, both Orc and man, charging into the battle.

The further I rode in, the more Orc surrounded, but somehow I managed to hangon as I slashed, stabbed and smashed. This was all I could think of doing, I'd never had any other kind of training ever, and adding kicks seemed to help. To my relief, the horse seemed to add to it, rearing, slamming the stone-hard hooves into any Orc that dared come close, smashing back hooves in the similar way. How I stayed on, I didn't know, but I managed.

As many of Orc as there were, the truth was, we out numbered and powered them. I was never alone, there was always a man, two, five, all of us defending each other, charging, protecting. I knew I was getting injured, here and there, I felt it, but nothing seemed to be bad. They just couldn't get close enough to me to do much damage, not when I was so high up, not when the sword was long and the horse attentive to every hostile creature that tried to get close.

I didn't know how long I fought like this, I didn't watch where we rode to, only that the sun grew hotter as the day went on, that my arm ached, that I saw so many men and orc cut down, so many terrible things that after a while I lost all sense of fear. It was like I was burnt out on it. Emotions vanished. I couldn't feel anymore grief for anything anymore.

The Orc thinned out, slowly, until they were running away. Leaving. We had almost defeated them.

"Ride them to the river!" Came one cry, Eomer.

"Make safe the city!"

The big elephants.

It was the vibration, the sheer vibration of the Mumakil charging, that got everyone's attention. But when the men started to chant, the horn came, the fear I thought had gone returned, my face draining of blood.

The line, suddenly, was reforming, and somehow I managed to get back into position. What was I doing? I didn't know. This was stupid. This was...

The horn was sounded and I was charging. We were charging. The Mumakil at us, the horses to them, and the second the first wave of the line hit, I saw whole horses being torn from the ground, flung, the great horns and trunks of the beasts tearing up the line easily.

Time slowed. I rode forward, aware suddenly of the reins in one hand, my sword gripped in my sweaty hand in the other, corpses of men and horse falling, my horse swerving backwards and forwards to avoid them. Of the Mumakil's head swinging ahead of me, swinging to the right. I dragged my horse to the left, to avoid the trunk and tusks, barely being missed by the trampling feet.

Some part of my brain seemed to remember to try and slash, I tried, nearly loosing my sword as it got caught in the leathery skin without cutting past it. My sword got caught, snagged, and I lost it.

No time to glance back though, there were others, other Mumakil, and I could barely manage to get my horse to duck feet, tusks and trunk, led alone figure out how to get it damaged. The Orc stood and watched, from the sidelines, I heard the twang of bows from riders, and remembered that I had a bow.

I had to hope, I had to PRAY, that my horse would … run. Bow, arrows, I flung them as fast as I could, gripping the horse with every last muscle in my legs, arrows only adding to the dozens of arrows already sticking in and out of the thick skin. When a leg came within inches, I barely noticed, pointing my arrow at the rope holding the thing on the Mumakil's back instead.

It got it, fraying it, I felt only a trace of triumph before … something very large and gray slammed down in front of me, grazing my knees, close enough to hug. I was tipped forward into it, the entire body of the horse going ridget under my legs, my arms closing around the edge of the grey thing. Arrows dug into my arms, one past my face, the smell of dust and blood in my nostrils.

Then it was lifting.

I didn't understand at first. Not until I was lifted competely out of the saddle and realised what it was I was hanging onto. A Mumakil's leg. My horse had been trampled. Grief, guilt, it flooded me, and I couldn't bear to look backwards, I couldn't bring myself to see what had happened to my horse. The horror was bad enough, knowing that what I smelt was the horse blood, maybe brains, I didn't know...

Instead, I grasped harder onto the leg as it lifted, and slammed back to the earth, the world slowing. What should I do?

An arm wrapped around my stomach, dragging me off, and I was dropped onto the ground hard. I didn't see who it was, except that it was a strange man I didn't know, and he was already gone. Rohirrim helping each other. He wouldn't have even known who I was.

There wasn't time though, there wans't time to think or blink, because the second I was on my feet, there was other problems. Not just ducking the Mumakil, but arrows flying, Orc charging at those of us who had been dragged from our mounts one way or another, hundreds of them. I didn't have a sword anymore. I had a bow. I needed to get higher, I needed to get off the ground, I needed to be somewhere safe and sheltered.

When I backed up into the body of a Mumakil, not even sure of when or how it had fallen, I didn't leave it. I forgot what it was, that it was a corpse, it suddenly just became a massive grey wall. It was warm still, maybe even alive, but very still. It was the closest thing.

Sliding my bow over my shoulder, I hoisted myself up, climbing up it as fast as I could. Something appeared, very sudden, a man with a pale face, frightened by my sudden appearance, face paint on, clearly not one of ours. Before I'd known it, something silver had crossed his throat as he'd lifted a sword, and I saw my own hand. Holding Legolas knife. Red dripping from the once clean blade. The man had fallen, eyes dead as they once again made eye contact with me, face still covered with a real genuine _fear_. He had been young. Fifteen years old, maybe. Just a kid.

I suddenly wanted to cry. I didn't understand it. I couldn't cry though. I was fighting again, the little slender knife, trying to destroy another life as another man threw himself at me with a pained scream that only one part of my brain could identify as being something about a brother. I just couldn't cope with it right now. Once he was dead, or at least fallen, I'd found myself pressed up against the side of the cage where the Mumakil had once carried men, the knife still clutched hard in my white hand, still dripping blood.

There, although I wanted to cry, wanted to break down, some part of me kept moving, kept going, the world still in 'slow motion'. Knife away. Bow out, arrow, fire. Arrow, fire. Arrow, fire. I fired at anything that wasn't on a horse, somehow managing to identify the difference between friend and enemy, the hood of my cloak over my head. I wasn't sure when that had happened. I only knew that I was hidden.

Here I could fire arrows, and I did, one after another until there was nothing left, and I knelt there, staring out for a minute or two, really seeing.

Hundreds of dead horses. Men. Orcs. Mumakil lay dead, some of them, most of them still charging through tbe battle. There were still yet hundreds of living horses and soldiers. If anyone saw me, Orc, Rohirrim, anything, they didn't go at me. I slid up, slowly, carefully peering over the edge of the great container that'd been used on the back of the Mumakil. There were dead in there, arrows in a man's eye, and great containers of arrows for the archers. The arrows barely fit my bow, it was small compared to theirs, but I managed to get enough and shifted.

There was another Mumakil under this one. Two of them, I realised, had crashed into each other. This was why I'd been so high up. One was dead, the other was breathing, but it was stuck under the dead one. It didn't try and get up- it just lay there, breathing hard, and I felt a pang of pity for it. It was like the horses. Just another beast used for someone elses war.

There was a scream, something slamming into my head, knocking me clear off the top of both Mumakils. I lost my bow, felt my own blood trickling down my head, dazed as I was knocked a good four metres down beside the struggling Mumakil.

Something fell beside me, the bow, and then one of the enemey who'd been on the Mumakil. I grasped my knife, standing, shaking, nearly knocked to my side as a horse and rider were thrown at us by one of the Mumakil still able to attack. I wasn't lucky enough to have it hit the enemy, instead, one of the hooves nearly hit me. But it did land between us and I scrambled backwards, as the man headed for me with a cry, his sword raised.

When he struck my knife, it nearly knocked it clean out of my hand, the force of his strike enough to do something painful to my shoulder, knocking me to my knees. He was raising it again when something terrible, absolutely terrible, screamed over us, a shadow passing us, the man crying out in fear and pain with me, falling to his knees, hands over his ears as a nasgal thing swooped towards something. Someone. I knew who it'd be. King Theodan was about to die. I just hoped Eowyn was nearby.

He'd raised his sword again, this man, and then … he'd seen I was a woman. I knew it, I could tell, there was this flash of hesitation, his arm lowering somewhat, and then he was trying to raise it again.

I fumbled for something, a bow, someone elses bow, drawing the heavier tougher object at the man as he tried to bring his sword down. I was faster, letting go of the arrow once I'd drawn it as far as possible, the arrow sinking into the man's chest.

Others had seen me now though. I ran, suddenly, a burst of energy rushing through me, heading away from the once safe shelter of the Mumakil, half blinded by blood that still poured down my head.

Where? I had no clue. Another Mumakil? It charged past with an Elf dancing on it. He didn't even see me. Legolas hadn't even seen me. This was a first and one I was very glad of right now. I barely stopped to watch him climb it.

Okay. I lied.

I did stop to watch him. He was sexy, he was incredible, and he was taking on a Mumakil thing all on his own.

Watching Legolas was a really stupid move.

Something really sharp and nasty found me around that point, right from behind, and before I knew it I was on the ground, rock digging into cheek, some Orc dragging his blade out of my torso and rushing at a man still somehow on a horse. I wasn't even sure where it'd gone in, only that somehow it'd been bad enough of a place to suddenly disable the whole entire damn body.

I lay there dazed, tasting blood, struggling to draw in breath. It felt like my shoulder had been stabbed, only it hadn't, my heart was racing like mad all of a sudden. Thud thud thud thud... or was that the horses rushing past? When I tried to lift myself up, I gasped with the agony of it, one entire half of my body just refusing to move. I collapsed back down and stared at the thousands of bodies between me and the White City. I was just another injured.

Green rushed past. Should I call Legolas for help?

Not after he drugged me. He had to beg for mercy first.

The army of the dead seemed to hiss like a steaming kettle. That was weird.

I shut my eyes for just a moment.

Something, a very sharp pain in my leg, woke me once again, but when I finally convinced my eyelids to open, I didn't see anything and wondered if Id imagined it. All I could see were dead bodies.

I blinked- another long blink that took minutes.

When I opened them again, I didn't see anything except for those bodies, the white wall of the city, and a beetle crawling over the armour of a man who lay very still and crooked. Maybe he'd been crushed. I didn't know. I tried to breathe and found it still as difficult as ever.

Okay. I wasn't really a warrior.

I felt cold though. Really cold. My heart thudded, it was rushing, I felt short of breath and kept coughing. I knew I was bleeding somewhere- it was dripping, tickling my side, and my entire leg felt numb.

Another blink, which took so much energy that it almost didn't seem worth opening my eyes again, the cold becoming unbearable. When I opened my eyes this time it was dark suddenly. Just like that- it went from daylight to night time. Some part of me knew I was going to die lying out here. Maybe I should have called for Legolas. Magic Elf hearing and all that. Now I didn't have the energy to lift my head.

Stupid pride. I should have called for help for once. Now the pain was so bad, this stabbing pain that ran from my shoulder to my back, that I couldn't move a muscle. Not even a toe. It was like my body had just shut down.

The lights of the White City glowed along the remains of the silver-white stone walls. I gazed up at it, or what I could see of it over the heads and bodies of the dead, between the occasional movement of people. Boromir had been right. The city was beautiful. Even now, even half ruined, I'd never seen anything like it.

Suddenly, I was standing in a massive Hall, still dirty and bloody, off to one side from a white throne. It was so beautiful. I looked down at myself, still in armour, still covered in black, brown and red, as filthy as I had been when I'd been lying dying. I wondered if I'd died. That would suck.

Aragorn was saying to Gandalf, "He _will_ come."

Legolas was staring at me. His face was draining of blood, I'd never seen anyone go so pale, every muscle in his body tense and frozen where it had been when he'd seen me. His eyes met mine, his skin not far off from the pale grey of his eyes, and he sucked in a deep breath of shock.

Then he moved for the door as fast as he could, Gimli's armour in one hand, dragging him behind. I hoped he'd bring Boromir. I wanted to kick Boromir's ass too.

The idea of dying didn't bother me at first. Not until I really saw Legolas. Now suddenly it hurt and I was opening my eyes once more, once again lying alone on the battle field, my heart hurting with the sheer grief I was already feeling. I didn't want to leave him behind. He had ten, twenty years of making up to do first.

I lay there, staring at the dirt, at the corpses, the smell of blood and death in my lungs, willing myself to stay awake. To stay alive. Had he seen me? I was sure he had.

Something got my attention. A soft glow, white, a face from a woman who was bending down in front of me. I thought it was Galadriel at first. Only this woman was tireder, more drawn, some differences in her face clear. Her eyes went over me to something else, something moving up beside us, the sound of leaves crunching under shoe.

What leaves?

Galadriel appeared, suddenly, and I found myself lying on the forest floor in Lothlorien. Wasn't this where Frodo was supposed to be finding himself? I hoped I wasn't taking over his 'Galadriel appointment time'.

"Stand up." Galadriel was saying, softly, a smile warming every inch of my cooling body. Her eyes met her daughter's eyes. "Take our hands. My daughter would not see you suffer like this."

I expected pain when I moved my arms. There wasn't any. I grasped hands, soft hands, warm hands that pulled me onto my feet with amazing strength, smelling jasmine and lilic instead of blood and death.

"My daughter and I would like to walk you to the White City."

"What about Frodo?" My own voice surprised me- I wasn't aware that I was able to speak anymore. My voice was raspy, drawn, dry, but it still worked.

"Do not worry for him. I have not forgotten him."

I became aware that I was again standing in the battle field, somehow upright, like half my mind was with Galadriel and Celebrien, half of it still in the battle field. I walked slowly, my body light, carried by them over the ground, and I didn't feel anything.

Celebrian was saying something in Elvish. Galadriel laughed, such an amazing sound in this weird duel-reality, and said, "My daughter asks you to give her love to Elrond."

"Elrond?" I didn't know what they were talking about. Confusion was starting to return. I started to feel my weight returning, feel the agony every footstep caused, the Lothlorien forest fading and the beautiful smells with it. The horror of the battlefield was returning, the cold of my body, like every step towards the ruined gates of the White City was a step away from the warm comfort of Lothlorien. I felt the agony- the stabbing pain from shoulder to back once more- and the grief of dying. I was dying.

Some part of me wanted to stop walking. To turn around and go back to the comfort.

"Keep walking, Wenduin."

I saw a child walking ahead of us, apparently oblivious to the death around him, stared at him as Galadriel and Celebrian continued to help me. Dark warm blonde hair. He twisted around, to look back at me, laughing, an orange butterfly on his head. Vivid green eyes. I'd seen him before once. In a dream. I'd seen him in a dream about Legolas.

Then he was gone again, vanishing, fading away like smoke, and so was Galadriel and Celebrian.

The weight of my injuries crashed into me once more. I didn't even have the energy to sit down. I stood there, shaking, the ten or so metres to the gate suddenly looking like a hundred. When something smacked into the ground beside me, I blinked at it, sleepy, stupid. A burning arrow.

An Elvish arrow. Burning.

Legolas had seen me.

The relief I felt made everything in my body let go. I fell, fell towards the ground, and out of my own head.


	16. Healing

I dreamed of Legolas. Aragorn. Gimli. The smell of someone's pipe.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

"Morphine. Lots of it." I waved my arm around, hitting something soft in the face, and prodded a nose. "Come on, doc."

"Wenduin?"

The name seemed really weird for a while. Wenduin? Wasn't I Kim?

Or was I?

I prodded the nose again, felt soft long hair, and tugged at it, ignoring the hand trying to detach my hand. "Pain killers. Now. Water. Something!" I added water, my throat so dry it hurt, bringing tears to my eyes. Or was that the effort put into speaking? The ache in my head?

"_Wenduin_." I tasted water, opening my mouth automatically, aware of ...herbs? Tickling my throat?

I opened my eyes and a pale face hovered over mine, my hand half over his mouth. Brian? No, not Brian. Legolas. But wait. That couldn't be right. Legolas wasn't real. Was he? No, wait, he was real. Wasn't he?

I blinked slowly, confused, and when I opened them again my hand was down and Legolas was standing against a window just a few inches beside me, his arms crossed, all his attention focused on me. Sunlight lit him, setting his hair aglow, his skin, everything.

When I blinked again, the light had changed, and yet he hadn't moved. There was more light in the room.

"Leggy?" All these memories were crowding into my head. I felt weird, my head span, I struggled to breathe as I stared at Legolas. How could this be real? It didn't seem _real_. But it was. The linen under me, the … was that a bandage over my head? I didn't know- I felt stiff all over, the sheets covered me to my waist, and I couldn't really see anything.

Was that something sticking out of my chest? An arrow? I grasped it, suddenly, panicking, and Legolas' hand slammed down on mine, grasping it.

"It must remain." He gently detached my hand from it. "There is air in your chest. Aragorn drains it. Drink and sleep."

More water, water that I gratefully drank, his hand trembling as he tipped it for me. I slid back into sleep, away from the pain of the room, only really aware of Legolas' hand over mine.

When I woke again, the thing in my chest was gone, and Legolas was still sitting beside me. Waiting. His grey eyes fixed in mine.

"You're not supposed to be real."

"You're not supposed to be here yet. Nor were you supposed to survive. Your wounds were ..." Legolas trailed off, dropping his head onto the bed, hiding the real fear and grief I'd seen earlier. "I saw you. Walking to the gate. I could not reach you quickly so I sent you an arrow. But I thought you had died. You seem to survive much... We will always surprise each other, it seems." There was this mixture of anger and anxiety in his face as he looked back up, shifting close to press his forehead against mine, inhaling slowly. "Did you not read the note?"

I shook my head. Oh yeah. I was supposed to be angry at him! "You drugged me. You _jerk_."

"I did no such thing." Legolas frowned.

"You gave me dinner. Next thing I know, I'm waking up, you've all run away, and-" The effort of saying all this nearly knocked me back out again, nearly, but I had started to draw on the anger I'd carried for the past three days. Four? Five? How long had I been asleep?

"I bade Boromir write a letter to you for me, for I cannot write in common script, and he promised to give it to you. I did not ask him to drug you. I believed it would be wiser for you to remain safe. I do not know how you were drugged, my love, I thought you had read the letter." Legolas was bent over me, kissing my forehead, stroking my face. "I thought you were upset. I left you to sleep."

I went to argue, I wanted to be angry with him, but I was exhausted. I wanted to sleep. I didn't answer. Couldn't be bothered to argue.

"Do not sleep yet. Wenduin, I must leave soon. Before the hour is up. Please." He was pleading, shifting to sit on the bed beside me, the mattress sagging gently. "Let us talk a minute." Something in his tone cut through my desire to sleep and I opened my eyes, trying to stay awake, Legolas smiling sadly as he ran his fingers through my hair. Why was he so sad? "Thank you."

"I wanted you to read the note. To me. Your excuse for ...drugging me."

"I did not. Love, I would never. But I will read my letter, for I remember it." He sat back, slowly, the sadness still in his face as he stared at me. Legolas stood up and reached for his tunic, his armour, slowly pulling it on as he spoke. "Boromir must have took it upon himself to protect you when he heard my message."

"Whatever excuse you had, it was no excuse for what he and you did." I muttered. What was with the delay? Some part of me did actually believe Legolas, that he hadn't done it, because hadn't he always made it clear that he would trust me? Sort of? Now that I was alive, sore as hell but alive, I wanted to hear this. Whatever fucking excuse, it wasn't going to be nearly good enough. "Out with it. The letter was in my pants."

"I know. I found it." Legolas responded. He was sliding the letter out of his tunic, flattening it slowly, gently, and unfolded it. "The letter should read- You are with child. Please stay safe." He held it out. It said, '_Woman- don't you dare leave camp. You are carrying the Elf's child. Stay put and I'll bring the Elf back to you in one piece in time for a fast marriage in Gondor's customs before the nine months is up. With love, and a __lot__ of laughter, Boromir_.'

I stared at Legolas. At the letter. All my anger just popped.

Ah.

Okay.

That excuse may have been one I'd listened to.

Suddenly, Boromir's actions made a lot of sense. I'd seen it at the camp- when he'd been in such a good mood, slapping my ass with his sword, teasing Legolas, all happy with some secret I hadn't known. And his behaviour when I'd lost the armour that was apparently good, how nothing had been good enough, nothing. He'd been more out of control than usual. It'd been totally baffling at the time. Now it made sense. If Boromir had known this before me, he'd have gone out of his head with worry over it, and … I could see him resorting to drugs. Sadly, I could. The big fucking idiot.

"Oh." I said. Sounded dumb? Sure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did." Legolas slid the paper back down. "I tried."

"When?"

"Edoras. I told you that no child for Boromir grew within you. I assumed you … could sense the life. As I could. I thought you were worried it was his. It was not. It was mine."

"Oh." I added. Maybe this was obvious. I didn't have the energy to think about it. Quieter I asked, "So he drugged me. You wouldn't have?" But it somehow didn't matter so much now. I'd still have to kick him for Eowyn, dob him into her, all of that... Boromir always seemed to be trying to do the right thing.

"My love, I learnt my lesson in Helm's Deep. If I tell you to not fight, you will find a way to fight, and I would not risk that." He laughed, softly, shifting to sit closer still. But he still was pale, reaching out to brush his fingers through my hair, hesitating across the space where the bandage was. "I would have you fight beside me any other time. Do you doubt that?"

I didn't. I seriously didn't. Why hadn't I thought of this? I hadn't bled once since coming here, not once, and I hadn't thought about it more than once. I leaned into his hand and breathed out slowly, sighing, grasping his hand. Oh my god. I was pregnant. Now that I thought about it, it was obvious, maybe always had been. And I'd risked his baby. I wouldn't have done that. "Sorry. But drugging me..."

"I believed you chose to remain behind." Legolas shook his head slightly. "I would not lie to you. We were gifted a child. It is not just you that I fight to protect now."

Gifted a child. Emotion welled in me at that. I remembered it. That boy. That little boy I'd seen twice now. Big green eyes, golden blonde hair, and that beauty that he could only have gotten from Legolas.

His father.

"I can't come with you guys to the black gate."

"Do you want to?" He didn't even ask how I knew that. Legolas stood up once more, sliding his belt on, and held out his wrist so I could do up his wrist guards.

"Now? Not really." It was the truth too. I was done being a warrior for now. I could barely move as it was. Legolas slumped with relief and was suddenly bent over me, kissing me hard, hand sliding down to rest across my lower stomach. His child. This news was overwhelming. I hoped I'd have at least six, seven, _ten_ months to deal with this news. I grasped his face, stroking it, overwhelmed by the amount of love and emotion in his face. "I think I've seen him."

"Our son? As have I." Legolas laughed, suddenly, leaning forward to press his ear against my stomach. "In many a dream now." He hesitated, suddenly, twisting his head towards the door.

Eowyn stood there, arms crossed, face pale. "They are ready to leave."

"I think I can't move to say goodbye..."

"Do not move. Your body will heal, but slowly, and I would not risk you or our child." He still looked sad, even with his obvious joy at the baby, this sadness that dragged at him. Why? I didn't understand. "Aragorn has tended to you. He has asked you to stay in bed for several days, to be safe."

"What's wrong then?" And where was Boromir? I wanted to kick his ass. "Where is Boromir? He nearly screwed up Eowyn's fate."

"Boromir did not leave the City of the Dead. There was … a fall of skulls. He could not escape fast enough. He fell. I'm sorry." He was sorry. Grief was across his face, Legolas moving to sit beside me once more, leaning against me.

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, I felt like I was back on the battle field, struggling to breathe again, my chest hurting. Boromir. Fell. I wheezed, heart pounding, struggling to breathe suddenly.

"I am sorry. Wenduin." Legolas was saying. I could barely hear him. I tried to sit up, to stand, ignoring the pain, or the way my head spun. It couldn't be. He'd almost made it home. "He was happy for you."

He would have made it home if I hadn't forced him to go back to Edoras.

"It's impossible." Dead? The man was immortal. Hadn't I saved his life? Hadn't we given him a long happy life?

"My Lady Eowyn." Legolas was calling. Someone appeared, very sudden, a flash of white, hands shoving me back down with incredible strength. Or... more likely... I was incredibly weak. Eowyn bent over me, nodding to Legolas, who stood. "I must go, Wenduin."

"No!" The word was gone before I could stop it, devastation, this sudden real genuine fear that ...this was it. I wouldn't see him again. I grasped for him, Legolas backing up, sliding both knives onto his back. "Legolas, not you too. You know … it's impossible." So what if I had seen it go okay? I'd changed things here, in this world, and …

Legolas left with a sad smile, glancing back over his shoulder at me, before he vanished outside. Eowyn literally forced me to remain in bed as he did with just her weight, though it was hard for her, she was breathing hard as I struggled against her. She remained for twenty minutes, shoving me down every time I tried to stand, and only when I gave up did she finally stand up. She looked exhausted too.

She flopped into the bed beside mine, breathing out slowly, face pale. "Do not think you are the only one … letting go of things. Wenduin. Trust that he will return."

I didn't want to trust. I also didn't apparently have the energy to stand up. After twenty minutes of trying to stand, of trying to not cry or feel anything, I couldn't move. I lay there, my heart squeezing hard, trying to breathe, feeling strangely hot.

Boromir. He'd died.

How could he die? It made no sense. I'd saved him.

"Do you wish to talk?"

I shook my head, twisting my head away from Eowyn, shutting my eyes. I didn't want to talk. All I could see, all I could think, was that moment I'd made Boromir come back with me to Edoras. He'd never wanted to go. But he always did what I asked. He'd always wanted to make me happy, even protect me, even apparently if it meant drugging me so I wouldn't ride to war.

"What happened to me?"

"I believe you were stabbed through your side." Eowyn said softly. She lay there, I could feel her eyes on the side of my head. "Your leg had been rode over. Your head had struck something. It was a miracle you walked to the Gate- perhaps you may not have been found if you had not. Many saw you. Legolas was the last to reach you- the guards had already rushed to you as you collapsed."

"I don't remember."

"Nor did I remember what happened to me. At first. It has slowly come back."

We went quiet. I wanted her to tell me, even though I knew, wanted a distraction. I asked, "What?" and lay there quietly as she told me everything. Her and Merry, killing a Mumakil together, the Witchking, everything. She hadn't mentioned Faramir yet though and I didn't ask.

"I only woke three hours before you. Lord Aragorn's healing is ..." She trailed off. Eowyn was still very hurt. I reached out across the gap between the beds, finding her hand, my own gesture surprising even me. She grasped it. "I should comfort you. Boromir has died and your husband rides to the Black Gate."

Gee. Thanks for summonsing the problem. I felt my face twist involuntary, I wanted to cry, and to my horror she'd actually slid up to sit beside me, to hold me, leaning against me. It was the most beautiful, warm, caring thing anyone had done, and I couldn't stop it. I bawled my eyes out. I was just too exhausted, too sore, too weary with guilt to do anything else, and Eowyn held onto me, leaning against me.

This entire world was weird. It made no sense.

"When I was sad, as a little one, my mother would tell me that being clean always made you feel better. That all the sorrow of the world could be released so that we may sleep." Eowyn said softly. "I do not have many memories of her anymore. Would you mind... if we helped each other?"

I didn't. I really didn't care. When I nodded, it seemed to please her, and she stood up to slowly head outside, leaning against the wall, clearly as spent with energy as I was.

Warm water and cloths were brought to us, a woman coming into help us both, and both Eowyn and I finally managed to strip off our dirty clothing we'd pinched from Aragorn. The hot water did sooth me, a little, Eowyn helping me as my body struggled to move through the thickly wound bandages. I helped her- she struggled to use her left arm, struggled to move her body, helped her clean dirt and grime from her shoulders and upper back, her face, her neck. The woman helped us both with the rest of our bodies- neither of us could stand anymore.

Our hair was washed, and I combed hers, before she combed mine, simple white dresses offered to both of us. For once I didn't care that it was feminine. I sat there, numb, staring at my bandage covered side, my legs, the terrible bruising where someone's horse had trampled me, the bandange re-wrapped around my head. There it was. A baby. I stared at it under the dress. It wasn't obvious to me even now but …

Well, in so many ways, it was suddenly so obvious.

"Have you felt nothing?" Eowyn was staring at my stomach too, through the dress, her eyes fluttering. She was about ready to pass out all over again.

"No. No sickness. Nothing." I admitted. "I didn't think about it."

"You are lucky. My friend struggled in the early months of hers." Eowyn lay down, or rather, she flopped down on the pillow, and almost straight away she was asleep. I stood up, nearly tipping over with the effort, sliding a sheet over her.

I lay back, flopping myself, ignoring the flood of pain this action caused, suddenly so tired and devastated. Clean was nice. I felt better. But I didn't know if I'd ever feel okay again. Boromir had tried to protect me. Like everything he'd cared about. I was so angry with him, so really pissed off, and so guilty.

Sleep was terrible, I kept seeing Boromir's face, kept waking up expecting to see him. To be angry at him. I kept seeing that moment, when those skulls had exploded, kept seeing Boromir fall... and I was too exhausted to stay awake, to stay out of dreams, to stay away from the nightmares. Nothing anymore about the future. I didn't dream about the future. Only about Boromir. Only about his death, about his life, and how angry I was with him.

Eowyn was still asleep when I woke. I sat there, dazed, so tired and yet so awake, unwilling to go back to sleep. It had to be night- it was dark-but it was faintly light outside. So was it sunset or sunrise? I didn't know.

I stood up slowly, almost tipping over, a woman rising from the corner hurriedly.

"My lady, please rest."

"What time is it?" I could barely talk- once again I was really thirsty. I stared around for water.

"Not yet sunrise." The women spoke very softly, casting a look to Eowyn, who still slept soundly in the same posture she'd fallen asleep in. "You and the Lady Eowyn have slept soundly."

"I think I need to stop sleeping." I couldn't take anymore dreams about Boromir. When she nodded, she held something out, some kind of walking stick. Pride wanted me to ignore it. I changed my mind though when I tried to step on my bad leg and found it nearly giving way. "Thanks."

"For your child, my lady, be kind to yourself."

Everyone apparently knew now. Somehow I didn't care. I walked slowly, the woman beside me, her arm around my shoulders as we headed outside. It was very cold and she vanished, only to reappear with a thick fur lined cloak and a mug of warm water.

"Where's my elvish cloak?"

"It is in the chest beside your bed. Would you like me to get it?"

I shook my head, stroking the fur, deciding there wasn't much poimt. This thing was beautiful. "It's okay. Just leave it. I'll get it later."

"Then I will leave you to your thoughts."

She was gone before I asked her to stay. Being with my thoughts was the last thing I really wanted. I gazed up at the stars, tugging the cloak over my shoulders, trembling slightly. After some time I had to sleep, so I stood up slowly, leaning on the stick, and went to crawl back into my bed.

It took several days before I could stay out of bed for more than half an hour. Like after Helm's Deep, I was physically way past my limit, and my wounds did not heal quickly. Sleep was terrible- I had nightmares about what I'd seen and sometimes, about what I hadn't seen, like my horse getting crushed by the Mumakil, Boromir dying featured quite a lot, all kinds of terrible things.

This wasn't helped by the sight of Faramir hovering around. But...

Eowyn had started to vanish.

It was the first thing I had to smile about since the end of the battle, seeing as the baby only reminded me of Boromir's behaviour.

"Been out for a walk?" I asked, lightly, as I caught Eowyn sliding back into the House of Healing long after the sun had fallen. She flushed, jumping as if she'd been caught stealing, shrugging. "Faramir?"

Eowyn nodded. She sat down slowly, resting on the bed in front of me, a small smile appearing. "Sometimes I have spoken with him. Mostly I just walk. He has shown me his city."

She still seemed down. Still sad. I didn't see a trace of love or anything so I didn't push it, didn't ask, deciding to not try and change anything. What was the point?

"Are you still sad?" It wasn't really a question though. Eowyn was already standing, coming to sit beside me, reaching out to grasp my hand. "They will be at the Black Gate in two days."

"So long?" How long had I been asleep? It felt like days.

"It is a five day ride, four when fast, Lord Faramir tells me. But he believes that no soldier is strong enough to ride fast and Lord Aragorn will move slower to allow the soldiers of Rohan andGondor to rest some."

Clearly they'd spoken quite a lot. I nodded, staring blankly at the ground, still numb.

"The Prince Legolas will be very strong."

"Pippin and Merry have gone too." I gazed out to the window. I wished I could see them right now. The depression was dragging at me. God. Why couldn't I be happy?

Eowyn wasn't much happier. She and I sat there, quiet, both of us staring numbly ahead.

"The Lord Faramir knows of his brother's death."

"Which one?"

"He know you saved Boromir's life, only for him to die. He does not blame you."

"I blame me. If I'd only let Boromir return-" I trailed off. Stared away. "Nevermind. I know. Of course I know."

The problem was, knowing wasn't feeling, and when Eowyn wasn't around to distract me, I'd find things pop into my head. Stupid memories- Both good and bad. The way he seemed to have less control over his emotions, sometimes leading to him to blurt things out, half the time good things, half the time not. How he loved to constantly call me out for cursing, call me woman, but he always tried. The stupidity with the birds- I sometimes wished I'd eaten them just to make him happy, even though they'd been a bad idea.

Mostly though, it was that moment beside the river, where I'd made him come back with me to Edoras.

I didn't remember my mum. But right now I really craved her. I really wanted her here. I was afraid of this pregnancy, I honestly was, afraid that I wouldn't see Legolas again, that I'd be alone if Aragorn didn't return either. I was afraid that if Legolas did return and we went to Mirkwood, that I'd always be shunned, ignored, left out. That wasn't just my worst fear, it was the most likely outcome, and now that I had to sit in this House of Healing all the time in bed … I couldn't escape it.

It wasn't that I'd made the wrong choice. I knew it now- that I'd always choose Legolas. But Boromir was something special. A friend I didn't know I could ever replace. And I'd never told him that.

The last thing I wanted was to be shunned. Alone. Bullied. All my life this had been my usual life. But since coming here, I'd made friends, found strength, and had mostly felt as if I belonged. I didn't miss TV or my phone.

My strength, the 'warrior side' of me, was just shutting down. I was soft. I was weak. I could barely walk. Only when it reached the fifth day, when Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf, Pippin and Merry would reach the Black Gate, could I really get my body to walk for half an hour.

So that was what I did. Twice a day.

Late that afternoon, wondering if they had reached the Black Gate yet or not, I wandered slowly across the paths. Lost and wallowing in self-pity, I walked quietly along the edges of the city, avoiding the slopes that I couldn't yet handle, and … there, in a garden ahead, I saw a familiar woman with a familiar man.

Eowyn and Faramir.

Leaning against each other. His face this beautiful tender mask, similar to Boromir in so many ways, right down to the affection that sometimes I'd catch in Boromir's face when he looked at me. That affection he'd showed when he'd known I was pregnant and I hadn't.

It hurt and at the same time, it was beautiful. So beautiful. Because for the first time, Eowyn looked at peace.

I backed off, slowly, but Faramir had seen me. He looked surprised, opening his mouth, only for Eowyn to cut him off.

"This is the Lady Wenduin." She said softly. "I will walk her back."

They must have talked about me. I knew he'd have questions, I knew he'd want to speak to me about Boromir, it was just the obvious reaction. But with Eowyn between us, he nodded, his tender smile returning as he met her eyes.

"Of course."

She watched him go, her fingers grasping this beautiful glittering blue cloak thing, before she turned to me.

"He does not know." Eowyn told me, moving closer. "That you told me I would marry him. But you were right."

"It was just one possibility. I'm sorry if I overstepped ...whatever this is."

It did surprise me though- that she hadn't told him. I almost expected her to out me for ...well, I didn't know, telling her. But instead, she smiled this secretive smile at me, this 'you and I are in the club and know the secret handshake' smile between women that until now, I'd never had.

"You may not be my sister, Wenduin, but you are my sister in my heart. I always will hear your thoughts, your dreams, and hope that you will always hear mine." She slid her arm over my shoulder. "I have long wished for a woman as a friend. A sister. I grieved for Aragorn's love, yes, but also for the loss of a sister I had long hoped to find."

For the first time since I'd woken in the House of Healing, I felt the first real rush of warmth, the first real rush of some emotion other than depression, guilt, fear or despair, and it left me wanting to burst into tears all over again. A friend. I had a friend. A sister.

"Thankyou." My voice was all choaked up now. I leaned against her and didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about it.

Eowyn leaned against me in return. Quietly she walked beside me, the beautiful blue starry cloak over her shoulders once again, half of it over my body where she still held me close, her face flushed with this beautiful kind of joy. Aragorn hadn't come close to creating _that_ face.

"You said I would be happy with him." She said softly, reaching out to grasp my hand in hers. "I did not understand what you meant."

"I really wasn't trying to arrange anything."

"I know. You saw my heart. When I saw him, although I did not know his name, my heart already loved him. I knew it was Faramir, Lord of Gondor, the man I would _choose_ to marry." She reached up to touch the mantle. "You did not arrange this. You only told me his name. When I saw him, it was done. I feared it, I feared what I felt, but … yes. He and I were always married. I feel as if we were seeking one another in life. I believe I would have known this, even without your vision, would have known who he would be the moment I saw him."

"I'm glad you're happy."

"I am. Those looks, those looks you gave Legolas, I envied so much." She laughed, suddenly, this rare sound that echoed around the courtyard. Eowyn actually grasped me, hugging me, ignoring the walking stick I still held close.

"Trust me, whatever looks I give him, you were giving Faramir."

"I have seen my own reflection. I know!" She laughed again, releasing me, shaking her head. The sound of joy from Eowyn was stunning, amazing, and once again I felt the black fog of misary lift from my head. She was so happy! "I look as if I was a love struck calf. It makes me want to laugh and cry with joy. Eomer will think I am mad. I feel terrible, for I grieve for Boromir, a man I long respected but … I cannot be all sad. It will not happen. I would easier move that mountain!"

The mention of Eomer's name brought Eowyn back down to earth now, she grasped my arms, squeezing them, saying in a strong voice, "They will return, Wenduin. Eomer, Aragorn, Gimli, and _your_ Legolas. I will come walking with you every day. When they return, your strength will be so great that you will ride to meet them, back straight, leg steady. You are not alone until they return."

"They're going to do a pretty crazy thing." I smiled weakly. "And you need to spend itme with Faramir."

"I trust Lord Aragorn with all my heart. He will not lead the last of Gondor's army to their ends." Eowyn was amazing. Even now, after he'd broke her heart so badly, she still trsuted the man. She grasped my hand once more. "I will spend my lifetime beside the Lord Faramir. Come. Let us return to the House of Healing. Tis nearly dark."

"And cold." More so as the sun sank behind the mountain.

"Just the damp of the first spring rain." She was repeating Faramir, the words bringing back that soft dreamy smile on her face, her eyes going distant. Yeah. The woman was in love. Repeating her man word for word? Eowyn was caught hook line and sinker. As if she'd caught me staring, Eowyn reached up to touch her cheeks, exclaiming, "To think not an hour past I was unhappy! What love does!"

Yeah, no kidding. A gust of wind blew past, nearly knocking me over, answering Eowyn and blowing our hair around. She had to hold onto me to keep me upright.

"It might be hard to get strong that quickly."

"I have not yet seen you shield from anything hard, Wenduin. Come. We will eat a good meal and rest. Tomorrow, I will begin your training."

I slept better that night. I still had nightmares, I still woke over and over, but compared to the past few days, it seemed to improve slightly. I wasn't sure why. Was it Eowyn's joy? Was it knowing that I had a friend? Maybe both. The wind also helped, somehow, the sound of it filled my head. It brought in the smell of rain, the smell of flowers, and every time I woke I could see Eowyn asleep beside me in her bed, in her simple white linen dress, so peaceful.

It wasn't just of Boromir that I started to have nightmares of.

The first time I'd woken in here, my mind had been so close to remembering everything about myself, that I'd at first believed that was where I was. Expected to see IV lines and stuff. It was so funny- that I was so familiar with a hospital.

But now I'd started to have nightmares about hospitals. All the time. I'd hear my dad say stuff like 'She fell' or 'Silly thing elbowed herself in her eye'. I'd dream of being in hospital more frequently than not, sometimes really sick, sometimes with a broken bone, and lie there being sedated and stay there.

_I found myself, in my dream, lying there. Hospital. The horrible over-warm bed underneath me, the scrunch of plastic as I tried to scratch a leg and failed, the horrible sight of my own arm being punctured by the great big needle in my arm. It always scared me. I liked needles but these things always scared me. I'd heard that bubbles could kill you and I kept seeing her injecting things into the IV bag with bubbles in them. _

"_Are you sure that's the real story?"_

_My attention returned to where a kind looking policewoman was saying softly to me, her hand on my hand, bent over me so that she could whisper. "Kimberly. It's okay." She was really pretty. Like an Elf. Sweet smile. _

_I could only nod. I was afraid. I knew he was sorry again. She wanted me to tell her all these things and if I did I'd never see him again. Never. He hadn't meant to do it. Dad was just very sad. _

"_You'll be here for three weeks, maybe longer." The nurse was telling me and the policewoman together. "Her father's gone overseas. He left a few hours ago. I called the police-"_

"_He booked that holiday for us six months ago." I could hear my own voice saying. "I wish I could go."_

_They exchanged looks, as if there was something wrong with this, but I turned away to stare at the IV line. They were moving away, the nurse and this sweet faced policewoman, trying to keep me from overhearing. It was impossible not to. _

"_We got your message. The airport's still trying to delay the flight for us. Unless she tells us what we already know, we can't hold him any longer, or make him stay."_

_So I didn't tell them. I couldn't betray my dad. It wasn't his fault. He was so sad. I forgave him. I just had to heal and get back to school. He hadn't injured my arm this time- I could go straight back to archery._

_Dad wasn't home when I came back three weeks later. Mum wasn't either. Someone else was though. I'd only seen photos of him and for a moment I thought I was having a concussive hallucination once more. Because Brian, ElfLord2000, wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in England._

"_You stopped coming online. I was worried." He said quietly, as I moved closer, staring at me. Big haunted eyes. Heartbreaking stare. Brian held up something. "It was in the news."_

_'Local girl found beaten- no leads'. _

_They knew. Oh god. We'd have to move. Would I have to give up my archery?_

"_I told you, baby, I love you." Brian's words out here, right in front of me, instead over a mic... it made me want to cry. "I love you. I looked you up. I hacked into your past. I know it isn't the first time someone's been beating you. Baby, I ain't leaving Australia, not until you come with me."_

"_I have ...school." He'd read all my files? Had he figured out who did it? I was so afraid all over again. _

"_I know." He was reaching out to touch me, so quiet, so hesitant, like I was made of glass. "I want you to finish it. I want you to graduate and go to university with me. Mum and Dad have come to. I've got a job- an apprentice builder- and I have a room rented.. Why aren't they here to welcome you home?"_

_My legs did give way then. I was so weak, so tired, and Mum wasn't here. Dad was on holiday. _

"_I don't know."_

"_You don't need to depend on them anymore, baby. I'm staying here. I'll protect you." The words, when he said them, changed my life forever. " I'm staying to be your boyfriend for real. For good. The second you're old enough, you're leaving your dad and staying close to me."_

When I opened my eyes again, I was crying, I was clutching the pillow silently, almost half convinced it was Brian. How had I forgotten such an important detail about him? He'd come for me. He'd saved me. Dad had found out about Brian- he'd walked into the room while I was on webcam chat with him, caught me showing Brian a boob while I was mid-giggle. I was fourteen. It was hilarious to me.

Dad had beaten me up so badly that I'd been in hospital for three weeks. But he'd been so sorry. He said he was just afraid of me getting pregnant. Or that I'd get murdered or killed. He'd been afraid I'd stop being his little girl. His team. His best friend. Brian had seen the whole thing. He hadn't told me at first- he'd only told me later- and his parents had seen it too. He had been so frightened for me that he'd grabbed them. Then he'd come to Australia with his parents. Moved out. Found me as fast as he could. He'd waited at my house, all day every day, hoping to find me before I re-united with my dad, unaware that my dad had gone off to Bali on holiday.

I hadn't known that he was also beating mum up. I'd already been out of home for two years when he accidentally killed her. When he'd gone to prison for good. Brian had wanted me to tell them what had happened to me. I couldn't do it.

I slid out of bed slowly, the tears still running down my face, as heartbroken an as hurt as I had been when it had happened. As if it'd happened all over again. Elvish cloak? Check.

It was freezing in the House of Healing. A cold wind blew. I shut my eyes, cold rain blowing against my face, leaning against the edge of the doorframe, tugging the cloak tight around my front. What had I remembered? Why couldn't these memories have just stayed away?

I was still struggling with it. With this Kimberly person I had been. Here, as Wenduin, I lived and I kicked butt. Kimberly seemed so weak.

It scared me. Scared me, because I was afraid this all wasn't real, that this was my way to escape reality. Maybe I was still in hospital. Maybe I'd been hurt. Brian hit me sometimes as well. He didn't mean to but...

"Lady Wenduin?" Faramir was just a foot away, reaching out, some kind of cloth in his hand. I stared at him. "Are you-"

"Sorry. Bad dream." I took the scrap of cloth. Stared at it. It felt real. How could both realities exist though? Was I Wenduin, or Kimberly, or was I both? Wasn't that razer thing always saying 'the simplest answer is the most likely?' Had I gone mad as Kimberly? "I don't feel real. Are you real?"

He stood up straighter now, dropping a pipe he'd been smoking, reaching out to grasp my hand. Faramir had calloused hands. One finger had a really nasty cut- a really old scar of where it must have almost been cut off once. It was so nasty I'd seen it through the dark night and the faint lantern light from inside.

"I am real, my lady." He'd released my hand again quickly. "Do I not feel real?"

"Yeah, you do."

"You may keep the cloth to wipe your eyes." Faramir leaned against the wall again. "I too am haunted. Feel the world around you. It is real."

He looked it. I stared at him, and at the finger that had that terrible scar, shutting my eyes. The cold rain, the wind, the freezing stones under my bare feet, the smooth warm fabric of the cloak, it all felt so real. Legolas' necklace between my breasts.

"My father nearly killed me. He beat me up all my life." These words had waited to come out for years. Years. I couldn't even stop them from coming out now, even though I didn't know Faramir, even though I wasn't anywhere near my father. I'd wanted to say the words ever since I was a little girl. But I was always so afraid. Afraid for him- that he'd to go prison. For me- that he'd hurt me again for saying it. For mum- that she would have a broken heart if she knew what was happening.

Faramir flinched. He stepped closer, slowly, reaching out to grasp my hand once more, with that careful 'move slowly' behaviour usually used for a wild animal. "Was that your dream?"

"It was … it was what I forgot. I only just remembered. I don't understand. I didn't tell Mum. She didn't know. But... if I had, he might not have …" She'd fallen. My mum had 'fallen down the stairs'. The police had seen right through his story. A fresh wave of pain, grief, and tears, and I tried to squash it down. It wasn't Faramir's fault. "Sorry. Sorry, I just woke up and-"

"You feel betrayed. Hurt. Confused. Loyal to him, and yet, so hurt that you feel your heart would break and never heal." Faramir's voice was quiet, soft, almost not there at all. He was staring at me with those haunted eyes once more. Haunted eyes that were damp- the moisture was catching the light of the lanturn.

"Yeah." I stared at him through my own blurry vision.

"I did not tell my brother of it either."

I opened my mouth several times, closed it, and shut my eyes. More grief, more pain, because Boromir was dead, and my mum was dead, and Faramir's mum was dead. Was this why I'd felt so close to him straight away? "Boromir probably knew."

Faramir didn't let go of me this time though. "He was close to you. My brother."

"We were friends. Really good friends."

"I know you saved his life." Faramir moved closer. Like me, his voice was broken now, his eyes on the sky. "I grieved and came to peace. Perhaps our mother missed him too much."

I didn't know what to say. I was just so cold and heartbroken all over again. Boromir. Legolas. My dad, my mum, and Brian. One world which might not even be real, one world that was just too awful to even re-connect to.

"Tell me what you think. Do not let it fester in your heart." Faramir said quietly. "Speak to me as if I was Boromir."

"What if you're not real? What if I just made you all up, my warrior side, everything, just to ...escape that life?"

"You fear your mind has broken."

I nodded. Wasn't that more likely? That I'd made it all up? I felt so weak right now. I could barely believe that I'd done any of it, the Orcs, the Uruk Hai, Moria, anything.

Something very sharp suddenly stabbed into my arm, and I yelped, jumping back from it. Faramir had stabbed me. He held a knife, apologetic as he held out a hand, saying softly, "You did feel it. I cannot tell you I am real- but your pain tells you."

I stared at the litle cut through the dress, the bleeding, the physical pain of this action somehow cutting through my emotional pain and the confusion. I _could_ feel it. I'd felt everything here. Every wound, every injury, I'd felt the sword go right through my body in the last battle. Could the mind make up those kinds of pain? Pain I'd never felt before? There was no way I could have known how it felt to have a sword in me- how it didn't even go in and out cleanly, how I'd felt it snag on my own skin, grate against my own ribs, this weird vibration that I only now could remember. Faramir's eyes on me, I touched the part of my body where I'd felt it go in, trembling, the skin still very tender and only half-healed.

"I don't think you're my mind."

"I hope not." Faramir smiled sadly. "Come. Let us go find something to eat. You do not need to talk of what you feel, but perhaps some company will help you dream better dreams tonight."

"Boromir was so proud of you. I see why now." I said quietly. This made him almost cry, almost, but he managed to hide it from me. I pretended to not have seen the tears

Faramir led me to a very small hall, one for the soldiers, and side by side we ate small fire-roasted sandwiches that he'd made for me as I waited. Now he was warming milk in a tiny pot over the fire.

"My brother would do this for me when I woke with a bad dream. He believed that it eased the soul to share a meal. Feeling alone was what could start the dreams."

"I dream of so much though."

"You have been in many battles. No soldier escapes those dreams." Faramir sat the warm mug of milk down beside me. "None. Here. Drink it slowly and tell me what fears you have."

"You might not understand." The 'two world' thing blew _my_ mind.

"Maybe not." Faramir agreed, sitting down, leaning against the table as he blew against the top of his hot milk. "But speak."

So I did. I told him about where I'd come from, how I'd come here, and how I kept being afraid that this place was made up because I'd already heard about it in a story. That I escaped to it to escape a terrible life.

"I mean, what I don't understand, if this is a real world and I really changed worlds, is why I can be here at all. Wouldn't disease and illness, new to everyone here, just wipe you all out? From the second I was here?"

"Are our trees different? Our animals?" When I shook my head, Faramir leaned back, staring up at the low wooden arch. "My thought is that you are not the first to cross worlds. Animals, illness, disease, perhaps our worlds exchange much more than we notice." Faramir offered. "You may not be the first to have come here."

"Not the first?"

"If our story has already been shared in your world, perhaps someone else came and did as you did. Walked with the Fellowship. Saw all that had been seen. Heard each story. Perhaps they came after the War of the Ring, documented the story, and told it in your world."

Woah. It was a thought that blew my mind.

"Perhaps many of our stories in return come from your world."

"But I'm special here. I'm not there." I said quietly. Was I?

"A fallen house cannot be repaired without the materials already there. You were always this." Faramir suddenly smiled, this sad smile, shutting his eyes. "I say words I should pay heed to. These are words I may have heard from Boromir."

"You're a lot like him." It wasn't just his words. I saw things in Faramir's face, expressions, the way he frowned, the way he wore his hair like that, these mannerisms that mirrored Boromir so much.

"So I have heard from him. Had heard. I did not believe it." Faramir drank slowly from his mug.

"Do you now?"

"Yes."

"But there's a lot of you from our mother."

I thought I'd gone mad. So too did Faramir, because he'd almost spat the milk all over the place, eyes meeting mine, trying to confirm as I had that I'd heard that. Boromir's voice had just echoed all over the room. Ghost?

"I heard it too." I said quickly.

"Now I understand what you mean when you say you fear your mind has broken..." Faramir stood up quickly. "For I see the ghost of my brother."

I twisted around, suddenly, and gawked at Boromir. He was leaning against the door, breathing hard like he'd run, face pale and drawn, clearly exhausted but all of it overshadowed by the oh so damn cocky 'I'm awesome' grin plastered all over his face.

"I see it too." I muttered. Okay. I was going to kill him myself.

"It! Am I not a man!" Boromir strode forward, tossing his Lothlorien cloak aside, reaching out with his arms. "Who needs a hug from a beautiful woman!"

He got Faramir, who had grasped onto him, Boromir's warm smile at his brother as they clasped each other's arms.

"They said you had died, brother."

"I nearly did. The tale is thrilling. When I have rested, I will entertain you with it. But I could not die yet. Wenduin had ordered me to marry and have children with a woman, and I cannot deny my sister." Boromir grinned at me. I kicked him hard in the shin.

"What did he do?" Faramir had backed off.

"Drugs. Remember?"

"I had to be sure you would not come. You did!" He held onto his shin, laughing, reaching out to grasp onto me, ignoring my squirming. "Faramir, did you know this lady here-" He'd used the word almost scornfully, "-is pregnant? She rode three days, fought in the battle for the White City, all while carrying a child."

Faramir gawked at me. What, men around here thought the second a woman was pregnant she was supposed to crawl into bed and stay there?

Boromir knelt, pressing his ear against my lower stomach, so familiar and comfortable with me that it clearly shocked Faramir. "This child is going to be a warrior, I hear it say."

"Get back. She's still a lady." Faramir dragged Boromir to his feet, his eyes raising, but so much relief and joy flooding his face. He grasped onto Boromir. "I thought you dead."

"I know, little brother. I am sorry. I was destined to die." Boromir breathed out slowly. "Is that warm milk? Can we sit a while? It has been a long ride from Rohan."

The three of us sat down. Warmth was returning to me, just a little bit, as I watched Faramir and Boromir talking, joking, Boromir's eyes always going to me. He was so tired, so happy, and when I finally smiled, it seemed to only provoke him to be _happier_. Cheerfully, with a mug of ale in one hand, a mug of milk in the other, he informed us of what had really happened.

He'd fallen. The skulls had knocked him down. Boromir hadn't been able to grip onto the walls- not with so many falling objects. But it had been one of those dead soldiers. Serving Aragorn, they must have decided that Boromir was worth saving or something, because they'd grabbed him. The path Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had taken had collapsed so Boromir had to walk alone through the path, back out the way he'd come, and take the long slow walk back to the Rohan war camp. Too slow. It'd taken him twice as long.

"When Tinkerbell found me, I could hurry, but it was too late."

"You took her!" I exclaimed, suddenly, getting it. "

"Of course, are you surprised? She carries you so well."

I wasn't really that surprised. Not really.

"When I returned to camp, I expected to see Wenduin and the Lady Eowyn. Instead, I heard that they had made a daring escape dressed as men, and were long gone." Boromir grinned. "I should have drugged you longer."

"Be lucky you didn't. Eowyn was _supposed_ to be at the battle." I kicked him again, hard, nearly knocking the drink over him. "Idiot. She was destined to kill the Witchking."

"Really? This you did not tell me. You see-" He turned to Faramir, who was watching both of us as if we were some tennis match, "-I believed that I should keep your wife safe. Wenduin did not tell me she was going to become a hero as well. When are you marrying her? Am I too late?"

Oh boy. I kicked Boromir again. Faramir's face had gone scarlet.

"No..." He muttered, staring away, avoiding both of us. "I court her, slowly, and we have not ...spoken of marriage."

Boromir chuckled, ruffling his brother's hair, before he took another long drink of the ale. "Now, to find me a wife."

"I'm sure Faramir's got suggestions, if he's anything like you." I muttered.

"He has more tact than I." Boromir laughed, shaking his head, Faramir still red faced and quiet. "He is thinking, I believe, that we should rest."

"He's probably right. I think I should go back to bed." I met Faramir's eyes. He nodded slowly, as I stood, the warm smile returning slowly through his embarrassment.

"Dream better dreams." Faramir shut his eyes. "As will I. If my brother will stop tormenting me with his teasing." He met Boromir's eyes, who just laughed again, Faramir now quick to duck Boromir's outstretched hand.

"We all will." Boromir stood up as well to hug me, this bone crushing hug, kissing my ear. "I am sorry for the drugs."

"Sure." I slipped back and headed to bed, glancing back, making sure that I wasn't dreaming it. Nope. Boromir. Alive. Tired, sure, but alive. He was turning back to his brother to tease him. With a soft sigh of relief I went back to bed and collapsed into the cool sheets.


	17. Quick note!

A/N - Just a quick note... sorry if you were excited about this being another chapter already! I am off for a long weekend of my own timing :B

I have a facebook page for Corinder updates (for both here and wattpad stories) and feel free to search it out.

Who would you prefer? Legolas? Boromir? Someone else? Why? :)


	18. Minas Tirith

It was still dark when I felt a sudden rush of cold, smelt very familiar sweat, and tipped backwards as the bed sagged towards something on the edge of my bed. A body slid in behind me over the blankets and a rough scratchy cheek pressing up against the side of my face.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled, sleepy, feeling Bormoir settle down behind me. He stank of sweat. It wasn't bad, exactly, but it was pretty damn obvious who'd just decided to crawl into my bed. "Get off my bed. Find a different hot water bottle."

A flash of light, from his lantern I had to assume, crossed the room as Boromir's body tensed and relaxed. "Not a chance, woman." When I went to shove him off, he tightened his grip, muttering, "I won't do anything. Still clothed."

"If I scream, Eowyn will cut your balls off. No. I will." I elbowed him, my arms pinned tighter as he held on, his face hidden in the back of my head now. There was a rumble, sudden, rolling around the vast plains that surrounded Minas Tirith and the city itself. This horrible, terrible rumble, and the burst of rain, two sounds that made me almost wet myself then and there. My body tensed as I realised it was a thunderstorm, not a lantern, that was flashing. Oh crap.

Boromir had _also_ tensed though. He muttered, "Let me stay a while, foul mouthed lady, hide here with you. The soldiers can't see their Captain quivering like a boy."

"Are you afra-" I yelped, tugging the blanket over my head as a sudden flash came to terrorise me all over again, and I felt Boromir pull it over his head as well. "You _too_?!"

"I don't like the dark. Or thunderstorms. Don't tell anyone." Boromir's voice came from behind, his arms still clutching onto me hard, squeezing me against his chest. He added softly against my ear, "I wanted to tell you the truth."

"The truth about you being afraid? About your fears?" I knew I should be kicking the man out. But this would involve me suddenly being alone in a crazy storm. The electricity from the storm was incredible, I could literally feel it, and wondered how Eowyn slept right through it.

"No. About what happened in the caves." CRASH. We both cringed.

"You were saved and you escaped." I remembered it. Boromir had been laughing as he said it, as if it was the best thing that'd happened to him the entire time he'd been in the Fellowship, Faramir laughing along with him. "You just told me that."

Another loud rumble and the CRACK of something being struck. The city? I could picture this city as being way too good of a lightning conductor. Or didn't stone attract lightening? What about that tree up there?

"Was not all the truth." Boromir leaned against the side of my face, pressed against my back, his body tensing every time we heard the crack, and the man was even trembling somewhat. I'd never seen him afraid before. Maybe it made sense though. He had to be afraid of something. "I could not admit it to Faramir."

"So what did happen?" I twisted around, facing Boromir, his arms loosening and then returning to their tighter grasp.

"There was a fall of skulls, I did not lie about that. And I _did_ fall. But no friendly ally of the dead came to help me. There was only a rock, sharp, cruel, and I held on until my fingers bled." Boromir inhaled sharply as lightning struck very close to us, the sound echoing around, deafening us both. "I knew not how far I had fallen. How far a drop was under me. I could not see."

I shut my eyes, letting him hang on, aware of how nice it was to be held. It really was. It wasn't sexual... but it was comforting.

"When it stopped it went very silent, as if in a tomb, and it was dark." He shivered suddenly, this shudder going down his back, his arms tightening around me. "There was no light. Our torches were gone. I had dropped mine. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had vanished. I did not know if they had escaped." Boromir's voice lost energy now, it faded away, and he was actually trembling. The big warrior oaf was trembling. "I could see nothing. Not my own hand. Not my own nose. I could still not see how far I had fallen. I climbed, my fingers slippery with sweat and blood, boots slipping. I slipped many times. I did not know if I had fallen lower. If I was close. Sometimes I would … I would feel a surface that felt flat and would hope it was the end, but it was not."

He shuddered, going quiet, I felt his fingers slide up my back to run through my hair, his lungs drawing in breath, Boromir's big powerful fearless warrior thing gone.

"When I did find it, I feared to believe it, and could not relax until I could lie flat. But it was still dark. There were skulls still, all over the ground, and I was more afraid than I have ever been. Nothing to sink a sword into. No battle, familiar battle in which I know how to be, only the dark that could never be defeated without fire or the sun. It was you that I held in my mind, as I lay there trying to will myself onto my feet, trying to convince myself to stand up and find my way out." He grasped me, lips against my forehead, fingers now tangled in my hair, holding me closer than I could ever remember him doing. "My brother. To see the two of you together. I wanted him to meet you."

He didn't speak for a long time. The storm kept happening, though now it suddenly was only in the back of my mind, I barely felt myself cringe. I was almost in that horrible place with him.

"I stood. I shuffled slowly. Always afraid that I would fall once more, afraid that I would find that pit, sliding skulls out of my way, hands out, expecting to fall or for something to strike my head. I had to imagine you were there, your hand on my shoulder."

Somehow his constant references to me during this made me uncomfortable. I felt guilty, I shouldn't have, I should have been grateful, but Boromir was … I didn't know.

"For a lifetime, I walked through the dark of that cave. Never knowing if it was the right way. Not knowing if I was lost. Afraid that I would die there, die of thirst, or fall down a hole just one step from my walk. Feeling the bones of dead soldiers under my feet. Afraid that a cave troll, or some other monster, would see me stumbling helpless and alone. I had no sword. I felt myself age faster out of sheer fear."

His words freaked me out too. How long had he been stuck in there? I didn't think Boromir was pretending to be afraid, he wasn't even really paying attention to me now, his head was somewhere else. "You got out though."

"Yes. I did. I came out in the night, alone, and I wept with relief as I saw the stars above. There was no beauty greater, no relief stronger, and I could not walk for many hours. Only when the sun rose could I will my legs to bear me again. If I had not believed you were at the camp, my angry lady, I may not have had the energy to walk at all. I stumbled back, slowly, picturing you. Waiting for your anger. Counting the hours until you would hit me."

It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Sort of. Except that I was really uncomfortable about all this now. "I wasn't there."

"No." Boromir chuckled. "I was devastated. I was tired, I collapsed, and when I was left alone, I could not stop the tears. As if I was only a boy once more. I have felt more like a child around you than I have with any other, uncertain, awkward, and afraid again."

Oh man. I felt really bad now. Maybe I should have written a note or something. "Sorry."

"Twas only exhaustion, Wenduin, when I had slept I was my old self once more. Your actions worried me and amused me all at once. It is what I love about you."

Love.

The word hung there, as Boromir went quiet, and while he continued to flinch and react to the storm outside, I couldn't. I knew he felt like that. But he hadn't really said it like this before. Not since... that thing.

Then he slid out of bed. Feet heading for door.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to say something like 'HEY DON'T LEAVE THAT HANGING AND RUN OFF'. I didn't.

"Do not fear. Your elf will return. Sleep. Thank you for hearing it. I did not want … you to know the lie."

I nodded, shutting my eyes only now, and tried to ignore the feeling of shock. Hurt. Sadness. And how _nice_ it was to be held. How much I wanted to scream at the man for just running off. Instead I went to sleep. Just shut off to shut these feelings away.

When I woke, Boromir was still gone, and some of my sanity returned. I stood up, dressed, raring to get up and give Boromir a real earful about the whole drug thing and also the whole 'stay out of my bed' thing. About the 'using me for comfort' thing? That baffled me. I didn't know how I felt about it. Warm, happy, chest full, but at the same time, so damn guilty, and kind of worried. I wished Legolas was around. I needed to talk to him.

No, it wasn't good that he'd been so afraid, but drugging me still wasn't a good move. I intended on using some scary phrases like 'Drugs could have harmed baby' and other such things that I knew would bother him. Let him _sweat_. Let him _worry_. It would make me feel better. It would make Boromir behave normally again. No more scared little Boromir. That side of him … I didn't know how to explain it, to see that part of him, but it unsettled me big time. I wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable.

I shoved this out of my head as I tried to stride purposefully, or as much as possible with my weakened body, out of my home.

I felt guilty about Faramir too. Poor Faramir. I'd more or less whacked him over the head with my daddy issues. He was a near stranger and I'd blurted that stuff out at him. That stuff, however messed up it was, was _not_ his problem.

It took some time to find him though When I found him, he was sitting in the sunshine, book in hand, in his leather armour as if waiting for something. He looked tired and pretty content so I assumed he hadn't slept since Boromir had come home. There was this little warm smile on his face, this peaceful expression, and as he looked up, the warmth seemed to increase.

He gazed up as I came into the little garden, lowering his book, and I decided to go with the easier question first. "Where is he?"

Faramir didn't seem to care that I didn't say good morning or something. If anything he seemed to be expecting the 'charge of the Wenduin' and had braced himself for me. "He has decided to enter Gondor in a manner that better suits his pride." Faramir chuckled softly as he carefully marked the page of the book he'd been on with a feather. "My brother has already gone."

"Gone, where?"'

"To meet Lord Aragorn."

"But the ride's five days! I mean, they'd be there, they'd be fighting..." This realisation made my stomach twist over, knot itself up and strange my lungs. Oh yeah. It was time. They would be there right now. Black Gate. "He wouldn't reach them." Should... I go fetch him? Again? I was tired. I wanted to sleep in some more. I supposed, at least, Boromir was back to his usual behaviour. Charging around following the whim of his pride.

"Boromir would not hear any word of possible defeat. He said that he would only return to Gondor, riding beside his King, only entering to the sound of the horns." Faramir reached out to touch my shoulder. "He said you would understand. In Lothlorien, he spoke of this to you and Aragorn, and asks that you do not chase him down."

Oh yeah. Lords of Gondor have returned.

"And he asks for us to keep his life secret. He wishes to-" Faramir hesitated.

"Enter Gondor in such a way that he'll never be forgotten?" Oh man, I sounded almost like a Middle Earth person there, and was tempted to add 'Make one hell of an entrance.' I held it back though.

"Yes, that is exactly it. He told me to tell you, he promised to bring your Elf back alive, and he is gone to make sure it is done."

I breathed out, tired once more, finding a seat and sitting in it. Okay. Fine. Whatever. Boromir's ego needed a boost. I was sure he'd love it. It was probably about a lot more than that- about Legolas, about Aragorn, about re-joining the other members of the Fellowship one last time. I wished I could have gone too now, sort of, but at the same time was very relieved I didn't _have_ to.

What I did have to do was find some food. Not go crazy waiting. This was it then. Either Frodo would get the ring into that volcano in time or …

Would I know from here?

"You and Lady Eowyn are moving to better chambers." Faramir's voice cut into my thoughts. "I have asked for it to be the best found."

"Oh... thanks."

"Anything you need, just ask."

"A coconut?" My answer surprised me. Yes. Right now I really was hungry for a coconut. Not just the flesh but the milk too. Yum yum. Dig hole in coconut eyes with knife, drink milk, then consume flesh. At his blank look I tried again. "An orange?"

"Oranges are rare and costly. That would not stop me. But they are not growing this time of the year." Faramir seemed amused. "Would you care for fruit?"

"Yeah." I wondered if this was the pregnancy thing. I somehow felt devastated that I wasn't going to get my orange or my coconut. Maybe this was just a 'need more fruit' thing. "What about baths? I know they're not easy but-"

"Baths!" Faramir stood up, suddenly, his sudden examination surprising me. "Of course! My Lady Eowyn has not been offered one. She would lov..." He trailed off, catching me staring, his face reddening somewhat. "I mean, yes. I would gladly arrange a bath."

"Oh, was this about what to offer _her_?" When his face continued to go bright red, like some teenager in love for the the first time, I grinned. Disappointment about the coconuts and oranges vanished. "Oh. I see. Yeah, I am sure she would love a bath _and_ fruit."

"It was about both you _and_ her." Faramir sat back down, slowly, trying to distract me from his red face by drinking from his mug. For a long time. "I have … I had thought... she is like no other woman I have met. Nor are you. That what you like, she might like, and-" He trailed off.

"She likes to ride horses. So go riding with her and give her a really good one. Not a tame one, not a sweet one for a kid or a woman, but one with strength and spirit, the kind of one for wars." I wasn't honestly sure she would like this. But hadn't we agreed we liked the more practical things? "Eowyn's an amazing rider. Treat her like she's your equal. What would you want to be given?"

"What would I like to be given? Is it that simple?" Clearly he thought it couldn't be that simple. Because, apparently, us women were difficult and fussy creatures that Faramir needed expert opinion with.

"I don't know. It's just what I think. She's still a woman. And anyway," I added quickly, "It's not like you'll know her inside and out straight away, is it? It'll take time to figure out what she likes." Not literally, not yet, and I was tempted to tease him about that. See if he got it. It was probably EXTREMELY unladylike to crack jokes about sex. Probably. I wasn't sure why I had this urge to just blurt it out and watch his face.

"Time, yes. I just wish to make her smile." Faramir gazed away for a long time. The tension faded from his face, a tenderness replacing it, as he said softer, "Her smile rights all wrongs within the world."

"So write that."

"What?"

"You know. Love letters. Write her love letters." I wanted love letters from Legolas! That would be great. I could learn to read Elvish and read a letter from Legolas all at the same time.

"Can the Lady Eowyn read or write? Not many women do."

His answer was kind of shocking to me. I was so used to the idea of everyone being able to read or write that I hadn't even thought about that. Oh, yeah. That was right. Middle Earth. "So... if she doesn't know, teach her to read and write. That way she can write to her brother."

"Her brother?"

"He'll be going back to Rohan. I'm sure she'll miss him. You would."

Faramir stared at me with that 'Oh yeah, that's so obvious' expression. Okay. It wasn't quite that. But clearly he hadn't realised this was even a thing for her. "Her brother. Of course. I ...how could I have not thought of that!" He seemed to realise we were off track because he cleared his throat. "But you, my lady. Boromir tells me you are the sister of Aragorn."

"Oh, did he?" Boromir? Now suddenly a dead man. Again. The man should have kept his mouth shut until Aragorn and I at least talked about this ...dilemma. The last thing I wanted people to think around here that I was the sister of some king. Married to some prince was a complicated enough reputation.

"I have not told anyone yet. But what you need, whatever you wish, I will ensure it is brought to you. You are a Lady of Gondor."

"Oh." Yeah, Boromir was _dead_. He knew it wasn't true. "It's okay. Fruit's perfect. I don't need fancy things. Just a comfortable place to sleep, some fruit, and to be one of the first to know if you see them coming back."

"Because Eowyn wishes to ride with you to meet them." It was the first time he'd forgotten the 'lady' part around me with Eowyn and I grinned. Faramir apparently hadn't realised he'd done it. He was standing up. "When I know, I will send word to both you and her, you have my word."

Somehow, although I suspected he did like me, it was probably more for Eowyn than for me. Or maybe not.

"Um." I said, as he made a movement to leave, and now it was my turn to go red. Okay. Yeah. If I didn't say it now, I wouldn't ever say it, and I really had to. "About what I said to you last night..."

"Do not apologise."

"No, I was half asleep, and upset, and ...I guess I'd wanted to say it for years, but … I kept hoping..."

"But only last night could it finally come out?" Faramir sat down slowly as he cut me off mid-ramble. His smile had faded now. He gazed at me with a steady look. "I am older than you and I … had not admitted it out loud. Not to anyone. I never gave up hope that my father would …" He stared sideways, suddenly. The mood of the room had dropped now. It was sad again. Faramir breathed out a long ragged breath. "I know the conflict, that you love your own father, constantly striving to win his pride, and yet to constantly be betrayed by that battle. For your father to betray your trust too many times. And yet you keep trying."

"What else can you do?" I had kept trying. I wanted my dad's love. I kept pretending nothing had happened. If I'd told someone, they would have taken me away, and I was afraid of that. Afraid of loosing my dad, of loosing my mum, and loosing their love. I felt so guilty. Even now, I felt guilty. "I thought it was my fault."

"As did I. No. As do I. But we must stop looking at it as children. Now, you are to be a mother, and I-" He hesitated. "-I move onto the next stage of my life."

"I didn't mean to throw it at you last night. I hit my head months ago and forgot everything. Everyone. I still don't remember it all but-"

"That must have been a gift." Faramir was serious. He smiled sadly. "It must have hurt you very badly to remember it in one moment. I am honoured to be the one awake when you had to bear it. Perhaps fate had planned that. I see my own wounds in you. Your father did love you, as did mine, but ..." He trailed off. Sighed. "Who can understand the heart of a broken man?"

Was that my dad? Somehow it fit. I stared at my hands. Yeah. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he was really angry, sometimes he laughed. Sometimes he was the best dad in the world. That was what the trip to Bali had been- a birthday present for me. Two months in Bali to celebrate how good I was getting at archery. He spent thousands of dollars to make me happy sometimes. To try and make up for what he struggled to give me. What if he had been sick? Mentally ill? "Broken men."

The most radical thought crossed my head as I stared at Faramir. That _it hadn't been my fault_. Okay, yes, this might have been obvious to most people. But I'd thought it was my fault since I was a little kid, as long as I could remember, and to think this... to feel this...

"It wasn't our fault, was it?" I had an air of wonder, disbelief, I couldn't believe I was even saying it.

"It was never our fault." Faramir seemed to be as surprised by his own words as I was. He took a while to speak after that, staring out across the city, like he needed to really let that statement sink in. "I... will use all my strength to not treat my children as I was treated." Faramir said quietly. "My father gave me a gift- I saw the need for all children to feel loved. To never raise a hand in anger to any child. To see each child's strength separately. I hope that when it is my turn, I am a good father, a loving one."

"And Uncle Boromir can be the one they do their sword practice with?"

My question, half-serious, broke the sombre mood. Faramir laughed softly and stood up. "Yes. They can bruise him. I am due on the walls now. Thank you. Do not feel guilt for last night. It was one of the happiest nights of my life. My brother came home and I heard that I would marry the woman I wished to. It was a night I will remember for the rest of my life."

Eowyn was waiting for me when I returned to the House of Healing. She held out my cloak.

"We are getting somewhere to stay. F... Lord Faramir has-"

"You may as well call him Faramir, seeing as he just called you Eowyn."

She went pink but laughed, reaching out to loop her arm through mine, shaking her head. "Faramir has given us a place to live for now, until the coronation."

"The coronation?"

"Lord Aragorn."

Oh, of course. She and I followed a soldier, arm in arm, slowly up the sloping street. I had healed quite a bit in the five and a half days since the battle but couldn't walk quickly, I still leaned on the walking stick, and the slope exhausted me badly. Eowyn too, struggled, and the soldier had to wait patiently.

This did give us a chance to really look around though. To really see the city. Until now, we'd stuck close to the House of Healing, and hadn't wanted to walk far. There were some shops open once again. Not much stuff was there, not surprisingly, but the survivors of the battle still needed food, clothing and other things. Children were playing again- all of them still shell shocked, some of them injured, but playing in the dust of the road. Women gathered in little groups and gossiped.

If it wasn't for the bandages, the ruined shops, the dark shadows under eyes, or the faint smell of decay from the battleground that was still not cleared of bodies, it might have been any other normal day here.

Eowyn and I were watched closely, with open curiosity, as if we were celebrities. Maybe we were. I felt self-concious and stuck close to her side, avoiding eye contact, not really confidant enough right now to deal with the stares.

"Eowyn?" I asked, as we made our way slowly, sometimes having to make little or big detours around the ruins of parts of the city. I was thinking of Faramir, saying Eowyn couldn't read, and gazed around. Did that mean almost no women could read in this city? In this world? "Can you read?"

"Read? I can a little. Can you?" She gazed at me with curiosity, carefully sidestepping a stone that was as high as her calf, and nearly crashed into a girl. The girl didn't seem at all upset, in fact, she'd been staring at Eowyn intently.

"Yeah. Everyone can. Do girls learn?"

"No. Not usually." Eowyn looked a bit surprised by my question. Our progress was slow, kids were laughing and chasing behind us, or attempting to. Their mothers were pulling them back. I noticed that here no one, except us, had their hair loose. Some of the women wore beautiful hairpieces, their hair pinned back or braided, with only the little girls with free hair. Most of them were busy, brooms, or were carrying rocks to wagons, faces drawn and eyes tired.

"Couldn't they learn?"

"Many do not need to. They learn what they must from their parents."

This still made me uncomfortable somehow. Kind of exhausted- we'd walked up the slope for ten minutes- I sat down against the edge of the wall on a crate and Eowyn sat beside me. "What about the boys?"

"Yes, the boys do go to school." She smiled at a child who had come closer, sliding across the wall. "Hello."

"Hello, my lady." The boy gazed at her, maybe about five or six, staring with an open stare. I noticed he had a big gash across his face and neck. But he seemed pretty active and happy. It was amazing that he knew to call Eowyn that. I wondered if I should. His mother wasn't slow in calling him back over to where she was sweeping rubble into a pile with a fairly big broom.

"But not the girls."

"No. They become mothers. I suppose it is not seen as important." Eowyn didn't look comfortable about it either though, I realised, as I watched her. In fact she seemed to dislike it. Her voice had gotten tense and strained. "I only learnt because I would not let my brother learn alone."

"If I have a girl, she's learning. Learning everything I learnt." I muttered. The words kind of reminded me that I was pregnant. Right now. In a society that didn't have women's rights. What about Legolas's people though? Did Elves have better rights? I suspected they might have but I didn't really know anything about them. "Everything. Right down to the end of high school."

"High school?"

"We have three parts of school." I explained. I shifted on the crate. "There's preschool for little ones, three to five years old. Then there's primary school. It's for kids from five to twelve. Then there's high school, for kids twelve to eighteen."

"So much ..." Eowyn breathed out slowly. "Both boys and girls do this? From all kinds of families?"

"Yeah. It's the law. We can only leave school at sixteen if we want to. Most people go to learn after too. We have schools for adults to learn things."

"Like what?"

"Like... everything. Doctors, architects, engineers, all these things that need a lot of training." I explained softly. Eowyn was standing and I stood up, my body protesting at the movement, but she clearly wanted to walk again. "There's other things too. Some people learn as they work. Apprenticeships. They work with someone who knows the job and learn from them."

"That is what is common here." Eowyn reached up to pull her hair out of her face as we came up higher, the wind suddenly cutting onto the road as the wall vanished where it had been destroyed during the battle, and we paused to gaze out into the valley. Great fires burnt down there. Bodies being burnt. There were tents down there now, probably collecting the armour and weapons, or maybe to protect the bodies of men from Gondor and Rohan. "We learn from those who are masters. Healers, builders, riders, warriors. Your world seems ...complicated."

"It is, really." But still. I didn't want my kids growing up to not know that they were equal. I breathed out slowly, turning to walk back up the slope, kind of conflicted now. How could I expect it? Here? In Mirkwood? They would be in a different world to mine.

Neither of us spoke as we started to really walk back up the sloping road that twisted around Minas Tirith. Our slow progress led us around the curving road, up one level, and to where a tall elegant building had been carved right into the edge of the inside wall. It wasn't far from the very top. I gazed up at it, leaning against Eowyn's side a little, panting. Stone arches. Balconies. Three levels.

"Very beautiful."

"Yes." Eowyn agreed, staring up. "He has found a beautiful home for us."

For us, huh? I grinned a little as I followed her inside, through a door that had a little hole in it, gazing around.

There was a hole patched up with fresh white stone- I could tell, most of the wall had faded to a duller white over time, but one part of the building was this shiny white. There was rubble on the floor, a little bit here and there, and it looked like furniture had hastily been put back. One half of the main room's furniture was dusty and messy. The other half of the room had clean furniture but the floors were dusty.

"There must have been damage." I muttered. "It needs cleaning."

"We can do that easily enough."

"Yes, my Lady, twas struck. It was lucky to have not fallen." The soldier had followed us in. He was gazing around too. He caught us staring and blinked, sheepish, a bit pink under his metal helm. He wasn't very old compared to a lot of the others. "Sorry. I grew up in the lower area. I always wondered what these ones looked like inside."

"Is it much different?"

"The furniture is nicer. Mama would love a table like that. Um. I have escorted you. If there is anything you need, Lord Faramir bids me to tell you that he will personally get anything you need. There will be a maid to come help." The soldier straightened, grasped his spear a bit tighter, and bowed as much as the plate-mail armour let him.

"Maybe we should give him the table." I said quietly when he was gone. Eowyn had moved to look around, slowly, touching everything.

"It is a lot for a city that has survived war. Maybe some of it can be given to those who have lost their homes." She was saying this mostly to herself.

We had a room to ourselves upstairs. It was a pretty narrow building – it really only had a kitchen, the main downstairs area, and two rooms upstairs, but I suspected it was still pretty fancy for this city. I let Eowyn have the larger one. Once I found a bed, I flopped into it, and lay there staring out the window over the plains to Mordor.

Now that I thought about it, a door with glass couldn't be that common either, so Faramir really had found us a fancy place. The sheets were soft green velvet, complete with the white tree, the room a good two and a half metres wide and long with arched stone ceilings, the balcony extending from my room all the way to Eowyn's larger room. We were above other buildings- I could see the buildings below- and I even had a little fireplace. Probably for when it got really cold.

The room was nice. That wasn't what had my attention though.

Mordor.

I thought I could see it- a faint red glow- the volcano. I wasn't sure- the bright sunlight made it harder to spot over the mountains- but that red glow did give me the creeps. It was probably it then.

Was it going to be today? Or did they fight for some days before they-

Mount Doom exploded. Right on time. Like it was waiting for us. It was amazing, beautiful, and I stared at it, knowing where Legolas was right now. Where the entire Fellowship was. Again, I felt the quiet nagging sense of being left out, but I couldn't even walk for half an hour without a rest.

I shoved that nagging thing back into my head, slid to my feet quickly, shouting "Eowyn!", and rushed outside to the balcony. The volcano was erupting. Eowyn rushed out to stand beside me, her hands on the balcony rail, staring out.

"What is that?"

"The volcano's exploding. Mount Doom is doomed. Frodo did it! He actually destroyed the ring!" I laughed, relief flooding me, my legs going weak as I leaned against the balcony. I should have known this was how it'd happen. But I had doubted it, doubted that he'd even manage it, because I'd proven that nothing about this world was set in stone. Everything could be changed.

This hadn't been changed.

"Are you sure?" Eowyn couldn't seem to believe it. When I nodded, she laughed, grasping me hard, holding onto me as we stared out at the distant exploding volcano. "It is done! It is over."

"It's over."

I breathed out slowly, shutting my eyes, leaning against her. "They'll come home now."

"Once the battle is done. When every last orc is dead." Eowyn was staring down at my old faded dress, suddenly, muttering, "You need a new dress." Her words were somewhat half-hearted, as if the dress was really the last thing on her mind, and when she said, "And you will need to be strong enough to ride to meet them," it seemed much more like her usual self.

I didn't bother correcting her about the length of time. I remembered the land collapsing under everything that'd supported the big fire eyeball jerk. So they'd be home. Five days, maybe even faster, because if they were happy then... well, happy soldiers usually forgot how tired they were.

"We do not have much time to get strong then." Eowyn was saying, standing straighter, back to action woman mode all of a sudden. "Yes. We will ready ourselves." From the look on her face though, the focused action woman look she suddenly glued onto me, apparently this mostly applied to me. Eowyn was going to get me ready. She had that determined look as she eyed me up and down, even reaching out to pluck hair down where it had sat apparently in the wrong order.

_I _was doomed.

Eowyn went from being my nice warrior sister to something else. Three walks a day, up and down that street, and one ride on a horse a day. It was exhausting and painful. Between that, suddenly, she had me eating as much as she could get me to eat. Or we'd get measured for dresses. She knew I was pregnant, she wouldn't let me forget it, and although I could have happily eaten just fruit right now, Eowyn would come in every morning with eggs, or some kind of cheese, or all these heavy foods.

Maybe it was because she felt so weakened herself. It wasn't just me, I'd noticed, Eowyn was also pushing herself as much as she pushed me. And like me, her body was still weak, maybe even more so. It was hard to tell. I complained and grumbled. She gritted her teeth and stayed quiet.

"I've gained weight!" I said, slightly in despair, as one day later she'd had me stop to be measured for dresses. I had. It was so frustrating. I was barely able to walk up a slope and I had started to gain weight again.

"You are supposed to. You carry a child." Eowyn was moving across fabric arranged across the kitchen table, the woman beside her, fingering each piece. "These are beautiful."

"Made right here." The lady seemed to be pretty happy with this news. "My family have woven for those of noble blood for many generations now. These were still safe from the battle."

"For the Lady Wenduin, this colour with this, it will suit her. Do you think?" She was lifting and putting to one side dark green fabric with a lighter creamy thread which seemed to be more noticeable on one side.

I moved across slowly, fingered the fabric, guilty, knowing that most people wouldn't get this. "Shouldn't we... donate this?" It was so beautiful when I looked at it close up. Really soft. I'd seen people in such terrible states that I couldn't imagine myself wandering around in this kind of thing.

"This cloth has no practical uses." Eowyn responded. Maybe she was reading my mind. Or maybe she'd already wondered about it. She reached out to stroke her fingers over the soft fabric of the dress. "Women need their cloth right now to be sturdy to handle the work they do. The people of Minas Tirith will not suffer if we use it. But-" She turned to the woman, who was marking the fabric, "-could we have old practical dresses? Something we can dirty. I intend on assisting with the clean up when I am strong enough, and I believe Wenduin would do the same."

"Yeah. I can help." I smiled a little.

"Thank you, my lady. I am sure I could find something. Yes." The woman, an older woman with some kind of hair ordainment across her greying hair, was nodding, this relieved look on her face. "We can spare some of our older cloth."

"Also, can you make it into pants?"

My question may have asked 'can you make these into short shorts? The dress maker looked kind of scandalised by the thought. I hurriedly tried to laugh it off. "I mean, like a skirt, but split up the middle."

"A riding dress." Eowyn explained, hurriedly, eyes going from me to the scandalised woman. "For we both must do much riding to regain our strength."

"Of course." The woman actually looked relieved that I didn't mean real pants. "Of course. Yes. If that's what you need I can easily have it done. But I will use darker fabric- to hide the mud. This dark brown is of fine quality but is tough and hides mud well."

Of course. Because I couldn't look _muddy_.

Some part of me wanted to say I wanted Legolas to see me muddy. I wanted to get completely covered in it and hug the pretty Elf. She was still probably recovering from my 'she wears pants like a man!' thing so I kept my mouth shut.

But only for a minute.

"What about when women wear nice things?"

"Many have dresses for those special occasions stored away. Passed from mother to daughter." The woman responded, as she used something to mark me, her sharp grey eyes boring into me as she dragged an arm up.

"The battle may have destroyed some."

"They may have, my lady. My own were safe."

That seemed a little narrow minded to me. Aragorn would have his ...crowning thing. "Well, couldn't we donate some fabric to those who lost their dresses? You know. Because Aragorn's going to be crowned."

"Lord Aragorn." Eowyn hissed softly, nudging me. "She is right though. It is not a priority of most women, not at this moment, but it will become one soon. We may call upon you after the Lord Aragorn returns."

"As you wish, my lady." Another bow, totally indifferent look, like a dress charity was the last thing the dressmaker had on her mind. "Please raise your arm higher."

She was gone after a good three hours of fussing. I was dressing upstairs when I saw a bizarre kind of cloud heading for us. Like crows. But bigger?

"Eowyn, what are they?" I called. She was dressing behind me. Eowyn turned to move beside me, tugging her dress up as she slid her arms into it, and I went to tie it up for her, brushing hair over one shoulder.

For a moment Eowyn didn't seem able to answer. She breathed out, softly, quietly, almost afraid, backing up into me. "Nasgal..."

"No, it couldn't be." I backed up too though, sudden, just in case. Heart hammered. Panic started to fill my chest and made it hard to breathe. No. Nope. Not possible. Right? Idiot eyeball dead. Why did I need to use the chamberpot right now of all times? I didn't have the leg energy to squat.

Eowyn had her sword out. She could barely hold it- her body hadn't come close to recovering that much- but she was doing her hardest, her eyes on the shapes coming closer, face once again pale and drawn.

I scrambled for my bow, fumbling, my room not exactly organised. By the time I had it grasped in my hand they were close enough for my panic to vanish.

Oh, duh. Gandalf. Eagles.

Frodo!

"It's okay!" I grasped Eowyn's arm. She was close to dropping her arm. "It's Gandalf."

"Gandalf?" Eowyn hesitated a second longer, her arm and shoulder shaking, and when she dropped her arm it was with obvious relief. She slid it back into the thing it lived in and breathed out slowly, face still drained of blood, clearly not ready yet to charge back into battle. I guessed she would have if she'd had to but...

"Come on. He's probably landing on the landing strip. Um. Up the top. " I felt so relieved to see Gandalf. I had to admit it. After spending the last time at nights, staring up, wondering if this was real or not, I kind of needed to speak to the old man. I didn't know what he could offer to prove it was real. Just that … I was glad he was back.

And Frodo?

I kind of known he'd always come back. Maybe that made it less anti-climatic for me.

Eowyn and I hurried, or we did our best to, making out way up the hill. She asked about him and we were pointed in the direction of up. Up. Of course up.

Panting, once again exhausted, my injured side and leg aching, we moved up and finally reached the massive open area that was the very top of Minas Tirith. It was the first time I'd seen it and I froze, staring around, the wind dancing around us in earnest now. This, I realised, was why all the women tied their hair back. The wind was crazy.

As exciting as this realisation was, which was to say it wasn't at all, what was really exciting was that I actually saw Gandalf. Hard to miss him. He was striding towards us, the wind blowing his silvery-white robes back and forward, heading straight for us.

"Frodo and Sam okay?" I asked, when he was within talking distance, which made Gandalf's mouth snap shut. Maybe he'd meant to give us BIG NEWS.

He smiled though, amused, almost breathless as he rested against his staff. When he opened his mouth again, there was a slow nod, and he said softly, "He is very tired. But I am told both will recover. Sam already is trying to wake."

"It is true then?" Eowyn said from beside me, breathless from rushing, eyes on Gandalf. "He is destroyed?"

"Yes. Sauron is destroyed and Aragorn returns now." Gandalf turned his attention onto me. "I am weary. But when I have rested, I will find you and we will talk." It was as if he knew I wanted to ask him questions. Maybe this was because I'd kept opening and shutting my mouth looking for an opening to blurt out something. He sighed, softly, and moved past us to move away. "When Frodo wakes, I will talk."

This news seemed to set Eowyn on fire as far as 'preparation went'. Not only did we try and help now, which truthfully was never much, but apparently it was appreciated, but Eowyn kept me going with two walks a day and the riding.

She would head off during the day in her worn dress, come back exhausted and happy, and Faramir did not fail in making sure we had a bath. Once a day.

Eowyn actually told him to reduce it to once a week. I heard her, while they were standing outside the little building late at night, well after everyone sane had gone to bed. She'd been staying out later and later.

It was like watching a teenage girl's first real love. Even though she was probably a little older than me, though I hadn't asked to find out, I sometimes did wonder if I should have 'the talk' with her. Or something. Her mum had died young. I had to guess she knew about how babies were made, right?

I saw Sam before I saw Gandalf. He was sitting outside our 'house', head down, looking exhausted and dejected.

"Sam?"

"Lady Wenduin." He stood up quickly. Sam looked awful. Tired, pale, bruised, bleeding, and even worse, depressed. He was holding a small pack, his pack, and a blanket. "They won't let me stay with Frodo. Gandalf said you were here. Can I... sleep here? It's just, see, I don't know anyone else. And you're Fellowship. I'd sleep in the kitchen. I wouldn't be here much. I need to be close when Frodo wakes. I could cook..."

"Sleep here? Of course." I hesitated only when he'd gone in past me. Was this okay? If not, I supposed people would have to deal with it. "You don't have to cook either."

"I think I _want_ to cook." Sam stared around at the large room. He nodded towards a corner, dropping his pack there. "I can keep your fire going down here. So it's warm. It gets cold at night here. There's plants outside. I can ...keep them weeded." It was like he was grasping for the familiar.

I hadn't minded the cold really. But I nodded anyway, Sam slowly undoing his bag, his eyes distant as he stared away. Maybe he wouldn't cheer up till Frodo woke up. He sat in a chair at the table, this tiny hobbit at a man sized table, and stared ahead.

"You can do whatever you need to. It'd be nice to have a garden that doesn't look messy. Sam, Frodo will be okay." I said quietly, moving closer across the kitchen to where he sat now.

"They say that. But he sleeps so deep. Not a sound disturbs him. He feels cold but does not shiver. Gandalf is with him night and day." Sam stared ahead.

"Ah." So that was where Gandalf was. I couldn't say I was that surprised. "I heard. Frodo desroyed the ring."

"He did." Sam glanced up now, meeting my eyes, and there was this fierce affection there suddenly. It blazed over his exhaustion, over his worry, filled with pride and love. Didn't I once wonder if they were lovers? "You should have seen it, my lady-"

"You can call me Wendy. See what?" I kind of knew the answer. I went to drop some small narrow logs into the wood stove, over the hot ashes we'd had from earlier, and put a kettle of the water onto the top.

"Wendy. See him. He was so brave. Carried that ring and fought Gollum. Gollum bit off his finger and Frodo charged at him. Knocked both of them off the edge. I thought Frodo was dead but he had hung on."

"You helped him out?"

Sam nodded. "I did only a little. It was Frodo who saved us."

"You were there. That probably made all the difference." I wondered if I should tell Sam what I knew. About everything. Maybe, right now, he just wanted to stay quiet. Frodo might tell us anyway.

"What of you, m... I mean, Wendy? What has happened here? Gandalf said you would tell me all that happened to the rest of the Fellowship."

I filled him in as best as possible, as we finally got hot water for tea, the two of us plating up food side by side. We'd already got food on the table as I finished, sausages, bread, potatoes fried with the sausages, real hobbit food. Sam listened intently, quiet, as I finished, "I might not have remembered it all. But I bet when the others get back we'll all be telling this over and over."

"I think so too." Sam smiled then, for the first time, a sausage halfway up to his mouth.

Eowyn didn't seem to mind that Sam was there. I wasn't even sure she noticed all that much, she was distracted now by Faramir, and Sam was pretty much trying to get into Frodo's chambers day or night. If she did notice she clearly didn't care that a hobbit was now spending a few hours a night in our kitchen. Sam left us breakfast, vanished, and returned late at night.

The news I was waiting for came on the fourth day. I knew it would, sort of, knew that they'd want to hurry back. I'd been riding the horse Eowyn had brought out, clutching to it with my good leg, doing my best to get my injured leg to hang on as well.

"If you keep using it, it will heal." She said quietly, frustrated, pressing her fingers into the muscle. When I flinched, Eowyn released my leg, putting her hands on her hips. "It is not easy to heal from this but I have seen men do it."

"I know it'll heal." I gazed down at my leg, sliding the dress up, touching where the brusing had still this ugly yellowness to it. Trampled by a horse. It had probably torn the muscle and done some nasty damage. "My other leg is getting stronger."

"You need to make sure this one stays strong as well. Or you will limp." Eowyn yanked my dress down, shaking her head, glancing around to make sure no one had seen it. My bare leg! Shocking. "Must I tie this dress to your boots?"

"I don't see the big deal. It's just a leg." I was tempted to tug my dress back up. It was already modified for me, this dark green velvet dress, I'd had them sew up the middle so it was more like a dress with two baggy pants. Overalls? Not quite but it kind of looked that way. It was better for everything, riding, walking, the usual stuff and only I could really tell that there was a difference. I'd made them put pockets in it too. How weird was it to not have pockets?

"My Lady Eowyn! Lady Wenduin!"

The shout came from a man, one of the soldiers we'd gotten used to following us around, his voice breathless. Oh crap. Had I been caught exposing _naughty leg?_

"Lord Faramir sends word. The army is not three hours away- Lord Faramir will await you both at the gate."

Three hour ride? Oh man. That meant a six hour ride round trip. Eowyn and I exchanged glances.

"Can you manage such a ride?" She was leaning closer.

"Sure." For Leggy? Anything for him. I hoped. "Can you?"

Eowyn was worried for me. I could see it in her face. I figured as long as I held on, I should be fine, as long as I didn't have to do anything more than point this horse and let it run. She hesitated then responded, "I can."

Maybe she was having the same hesitation. We had both had a pretty rough time. Both pretty weak still. But hey, maybe we could provoke each other.

"I will expect to sleep in tomorrow though." I added, shifting back, trying to get myself comfortable already.

"Of course." Eowyn moved towards her horse, flinging her skirt aside, her own style like mine. She'd started riding again as well. Mounting, she moved across to me, the horse hooves clattering across the flagstones. "I expect you to be with an Elf and will not even dare enter the house. Come."


	19. The soldiers return home

The ride down the long curving road was a bit hair raising. Dodging people, wagons, the rubble that still hadn't all been cleaned up, and always this downhill slope, Eowyn led the way and I followed her. We didn't ride fast, to my frustration, she kept glancing her shoulder me as if she wanted to say something. Around, and around, and around, under the great jutting stone thing, the White City seeming a little more grey for me right now. Maybe I was already tiring of the stones.

I did notice that Eowyn, as tired as she was, looked amazing on that horse. Hair streaming, her skirts flapping behind her, back straight, and I suddenly wished I'd ...combed hair. Or something. This normally wouldn't have worried me but with Legolas coming home, Mr Perfect Hair Elf, I suddenly worried. Equally, as I nearly fell over the front of my horse again, I was worried about how I'd stay on this bloody horse for hours.

Faramir waited for us at the gate, as he said he had, or what was left of it. I hadn't come down here since the battle. The gate was gone, pieces of it carried away somewhere, leaving a massive gaping hole. This was clearly going to have to be fixed but how I had no clue. It wasn't like they could just go to a factory to whip up a new gate. I'd been around Middle Earth long enough to know that it was a big deal that it was broken.

As I gazed around, I saw that we weren't alone, women, men and children were gathering around the edges. Flowers were already flying, or being wrapped around the pillars of the few shop fronts that were still standing, white banners being lifted, voices raised in obvious excitement. The smell of food and wood fire filled the air already, food handed out, people wearing whatever their best was. Mostly, as I'd suspected, their 'best' was no longer best. After such a terrible war, they'd probably just been happy to escape with their kids, clothing was the last of their worries during evacuating.

But even in older clothing people had done their best. They looked amazing, excited, faces flushed with the first real joy I'd seen around Minas Tirith for days, kids with clean faces and from the looks of things, almost everyone had washed their hair for this. For me, who was so used to the idea of a shower with shampoo being easy, it was kind of surprising to remember that here it was a big deal for you to be able to wash your hair or body. A basin didn't hold much. It was probably enough to just stay hygienic and odour free around here. Maybe that was another reason women tended to keep their hair tied back- because it was harder to notice unwashed hair when it was tied back.

"Are you ready?" He asked, barely able to hide his own excited energy, nodding behind us. There were about six other soldiers waiting to join us. I supposed this was just in case some Orc was hiding in a hole somewhere waiting to attack the poor helpless soldier ladies.

Or maybe not. Maybe Faramir just wanted them to come with us. Maybe they had a brother or something coming back. A lover?

"We must wait here." Faramir was explaining, glancing back, his horse dancing with some obvious excitement under him. I understood the soldiers as I saw what Faramir was looking for- two horses per soldier, already saddled, ready. "Those who need horses with energy will swap with us. I wait here, to give word to the tower guard."

"We are not riding to meet them?" Eowyn, I noticed, did not look completely put off by this news. If anything she seemed to be expecting it. She and Faramir both seemed to look at me, as if anticipating my reaction, which I ignored.

"So how are we going to join them?"

"Not you. The soldiers must enter through the gates. Those loved ones and families of the soldiers will wait for them here. The tradition is that only soldiers enter. Those of us not at battle await them here. You are to be by my side for this." Faramir was dismounting now, giving his horse to one of the six soldiers. "These soldiers will guide the injured, the tired and the weary soldiers who can not continue at a fast pace. Lady Eowyn, you should rest." His eyes went over me again, and he seemed to be annoyed suddenly, stiffening, his eyes going past me to something over my shoulder. Like he wanted to say something else.

I realised only now that he hadn't mentioned me. That he hadn't looked at me. "Uh-"

"You ride with us." Gandalf answered, before I could even ask, and like he usually did, he appeared almost out of no where. Voice business like. He strode over, Sam scrambling to follow, drawing himself quickly on the back of one of the spare horses. Gandalf bent down to help Sam up in front of him. "The Fellowship return together."

"Except Frodo." Sam said quietly.

"He is slowly recovering." Gandalf's voice softened. He squeezed Sam's arm. "And the broth you cook for him is doing wonders."

I got this mental image of Sam, six in the morning, cooking us breakfast on one side of that wood stove and making Frodo a broth with the other. Leaving before it was even light, hurrying through the cold morning, clutching a little pot of fresh broth, and suddenly wanted to hug him. Poor little man.

I breathed out. Waited, as Gandalf and Faramir spoke, without listening to what was being said.

Legolas. He was close. I could feel it. Every part of my body was energised now. My leg ached, sure, but I could handle that. It wasn't like it was wounded. Even if it set the healing back a little bit that was fine. Fine. Because Leggy was coming back. And my hair looked like I'd been in a tornado. Some part of me was SURE Legolas was just metres away. Crazy feeling, maybe, but it made me self-concious.

"Wenduin, you should comb your hair." Eowyn was dismounting and moving across to me. "It is not very attractive." She stared at my hair for a good ten seconds like it was a new monster she wanted to sink her sword into. When she turned around I grasped the comb tighter in my hand, the teeth digging into my palm, the other hand reaching up to touch the tangled hair. Okay. This was going to be crazy and impossible on the back of a horse. I needed help here.

I dismounted, suddenly, to Gandalf's surprise, and headed straight for Eowyn.

"Be back in a moment!" I called. Nothing. No order to return. When I glanced back, Gandalf had raised his eyebrows, this amused smile on his face. Eowyn had turned around. Also looked amused. Okay. Why did I feel like I had just been manipulated into asking for this?

Eowyn turned as I grasped her shoulder, she was already working with some of the other women at handing out flowers. "Wenduin?"

"Can you make my hair ... you know, not crazy? During the ride?" I went red, embarrassment flooding me as she actually laughed in my face, and was half tempted to just back off and change my mind. "Quickly?"

"Of course. We can all do this. Come here." Eowyn's hand shot out, grabbed my wrist in her vice-like grip, and dragged me into the small crowd of women. "We must hurry. Gandalf is waiting."

I was made to sit there on a chair, six women as well as Eowyn, hair grabbed, twisted, fingered, combed when one was located, cringing and making faces as they tugged unmercifully at the knots that had slowly gathered in my hair over the past ten days from beds, and wind, and ... ow, ow, ow.

"Does she never comb?" This was one of the women, exasperated as she held up what looked like the makings of my first dreadlock.

"I have never seen her do it." Eowyn laughed.

"I don't, OW, get time!"

"Better make time now your husband rides home. What kind of hair is this!" Another woman was laughing as she dragged the comb through my hair. Oh yeah. Really funny. Then the same woman said, stiff, like she was repeating some bad line from a play, "Should she ride pregnant?"

Silence fell amongst all of us. Never mind that Eowyn or someone had told them about this. Maybe even had told them to bring it up. Truthfully... Oh man. I hadn't even thought about this. I had done a lot of pretty reckless stuff while apparently pregnant. Even now, I struggled to really believe it was there, because I couldn't see any sign of it. I couldn't feel any kicks or anything.

Eyes had turned to Eowyn. The woman from Rohan. The rider. She had hesitated, part of my hair in her fingers, meeting my eyes. Her response surprised me. "I don't think she should."

"What?" I'd gotten myself mentally prepared for this!

"Women have lost children riding." Eowyn lowered my hair, squared her shoulders, and headed past the other women for Gandalf. "We have more time."

"Good. Five minutes is not enough to cope with this. It needs washing!" The woman holding my dread lock dropped it, raising her hands, and heading for where one of the fires was going. "I'll bring hot water."

"I have soap for hair..." Another woman separated.

"No, it's okay. Seriously. I just wanted it out of my way. Maybe riding would be okay..." I was lifted, or rather, I was encouraged to stand, and led in some direction. Into a house. Hands grabbing at clothing. Seriously. Undressing?! "It's okay."

"No. Bath. We have all had one. Have you had one for today?" An older woman, her hair back, flowers and jewellery in her hair, rolling up her sleeves.

I was increasingly feeling like Eowyn had sacrificed me to some mad gathering of women. "Well, no, but-"

"There is bathwater. It can be refreshed with hot water." Another woman called. God. It still felt kind of like the words had been pre-planned. I wondered if Eowyn and Faramir had planned this earlier but couldn't think of why they'd even bother.

"Gandalf has decided to ride on ahead." Eowyn called as she came into the building. "He did not think of the pregnancy."

Oh, greeeaaaat. I felt my dress unlaced at the front, falling open somewhat, grasped for the edges and stood there kind of shell shocked. I'd wanted my hair to be out of my way! Not to be attacked by made horde of women! But this wasn't what bothered me. What bothered me was that I was being left out again. Being told what to do. Again. Hadn't I already ridden pregnant? God. I hoped Eowyn was partly wrong. Women in Rohan rode pregnant. I knew that. I was pretty sure of it, anyway, I'd seen one woman do it at least. She was much bigger in front than me.

I didn't want to be left out of this one. This was not okay.

I was shoved into the little room with the bath, now apparently 'topped up' because it was steaming, and turned around hastily. "Um. Okay. I can bath."

What was the chances of a fresh bath, completely unused, waiting exactly when Eowyn wanted to shove me into it?

Yeah. Now I had the feeling it had been planned.

"She's shy." Eowyn laughed. "Let her. We have some time yet." She moved closer, embracing me, her lips brushing across my ear. "Move your hips with the motion of the hooves. It is less tiring and safer."

To my relief, no one tried to follow me in, and I shut the door. Breathed out in a deep relieved sigh.

But what had she meant? Riding tips? Was she telling me to ride for it? It was one hell of a confusing thing for her to say when apparently I needed 'bathing' and 'washing' and all that stuff. I had to assume this was Eowyn's way of 'ride like hell'. It confused me- why would she be acting like I had to stay but telling me to ride for the hills? Later when I wasn't in a rush I'd ponder it.

Now. How to get this dress back on. I splashed in the water with one arm, as I tried to get the other riding dress back up.

The dress itself, although I hadn't had time to see it before, wasn't as simple as I had thought it was. Dark green, with a cream lining, no patterns or anything so I'd not even looked at it. Dark green pants too. Boots. Gloves. It even had a hood.

Still, getting it re-done up wasn't so difficult, because as I fiddled with the front with one hand and splashed with the other I found that it had a good dozen tiny intricate metal hooks half concealed down the front. This had to be no small thing- in this world any tiny kinds of fine metalwork had to be seen as a fancy thing, given how difficult it would be to create. And the bodice was stiff so it held its shape. All I had to do was re-hook it, shoving boobs back inside, and the lacing part wasn't as hard as I had expected. It just held the hooks shut and reinforced it. Made my boobs a bit squishy but who could complain.

The 'dress' part split at my thighs, opening up to pants, which was probably to make riding easier. It probably looked like a dress when I stood still or was riding, given how much of that dark green fabric there was, but it was amazingly open for this kind of world. If I walked they'd see my pants! Shocking!

I only paid attention to this long enough to re-lace up the boots that they'd somehow got undone. If I had time I'd have cut off the skirt part. No time. Boots, done up, bath splash, giggles outside, and I twisted my hair back in a rough braid as best as I could.

The window was pretty easy to climb through. Outside was a tiny gap between buildings, one or two people at the most, and a few metres down. No one would notice me, a quick glance confirmed that, the crowd were facing the main courtyard area. I hoisted myself through it, into a little side street, the crowd with their backs to me. There was even a horse.

Weird. Who'd leave a horse there?

Just as I hoisted one leg out the window, nearly slipping on the swishy skirt, arms grabbed at me and pulled me backwards into the room once more, a face burying against the back of my shoulder.

My mind thought, for a brief panicked second, that it was Boromir again. Doing his usual 'get a bit too close' thing that he'd started to do again. Instinct, luckily, knew better, and instead of aiming knee for balls, I just grasped Legolas' face and guided it to mine for one hell of a kiss.

"Do you not do what you are told?" Legolas laughed, grasping my face, as I twisted around to kiss him and hit him. One of his arms had slid past me to shut the shutters and the curtains, cutting out the natural light, leaving us alone in the dark tiny room with just candles.

"When did you get here?"

"Not two hours past. The Lady Eowyn and I decided you should rest. You can not even ride yet, according to her. We have an hour alone and a bath ready." Legolas was kneeling in front of me, slowly, breathing out as he rested his head against my stomach, hands slowly unlacing the dress once more. "I stood just there waiting to see when you'd stop dressing and notice me."

"I was busy."

"Yes, I noticed." He seemed relieved. Tired, I could see the rare look in the Elf's face, but relieved. I stroked his face and wondered why I suddenly wanted to cry. Crazy. I'd known he'd come back from that battle. The Elf had things to do with that Dwarf friend of his. Draping my arms over his shoulders, I leaned against him somewhat, and tried to relax. With another deep sigh, Legolas relaxed against my stomach, leaning against me, letting the laces go once he'd undone the bow. "I am home."

"In this city?"

"In your arms."

Okay, now I really did want to cry, so I knelt in front of him and leaned against him as fingers slowly undid the dress once more. He must have not slept. The others would have had to during the ride back but Legolas? Not my magic energiser bunny Elf. He must have kept going like some stubborn thing. "Will you sleep tonight?"

"Yes." Legolas slowly unhooked the bodice, long fingers sliding under the thin shirt that protected me from the harsher fabric of the dress, his fingers sending tingles up and down my body. One touch and I was weak. "Tonight, we sleep together."

"About time. How was it?"

Legolas told me, as he slowly helped me out of my dress and pants, and then as I helped him undress. Eowyn and the women had vanished- I only heard the distant noise of the crowd now. He had been injured several times, which I did not remember happening, but then maybe it had happened and … I just hadn't seen it. Already the wounds were healing. The second we'd slid into the bath I made sure of it.

It started to rain as we sat there against each other, slipping against each other's skin, and no one came into the building. But I suddenly was worried they would. Rain wouldn't be fun. Legolas frowned when I slid backwards, out of his grasp, just before he actually got to touch me properly.

"It is locked." Legolas explained softly, as I wriggled away, self-conscious of being discovered with him. "Come here. Let me feel you." His fingers slid up my thigh once more, slowly, the other hand holding me steady in the water, kissing my collarbone slowly. "You are softer."

"I gained weight." I suddenly felt self-concious again. Oh man. Why did this feel like we hadn't done it for months? What about the scars? Now that I looked down I saw them more clearly than I had since I'd gotten out of bed. Big nasty one on my side. My leg looked yellow still. Ten days later and the bruise was still not gone!

"When I left you, you could not even rise from your bed, could not stay awake for more than a minute at a time. You looked too thin, too stiff, and I would have to touch you to make sure you still lived."

"You can hear my heart though, can't you?"

Legolas nodded, drawing me into his lap, my legs sliding around to hold onto him. "I could hear it. But I feared it was my mind creating it."

He really had issues with death. I grasped onto him, wondering if he'd ever be able to let me go, worried about what would happen to him when I started to show signs of aging. When I got older. Was he going to age with me? Or was he staying the way he was? I didn't know.

"Let's wash..." Trying to distract him, I started to wash his hair, which was clearly the right thing to do. Legolas melted under me as my fingers teased his scalp, his eyes shutting, hands tightening and relaxing against my body. His own hands slid up into my scalp, relaxing the hair better than any of the combs or women had, teasing it out with soap.

It was only when we'd washed and completely teased each other, before I was tugged out of the bath with Legolas, and pushed against a wall. Skin slipping against each other, he tugged one of my legs around his waist, kissing me hard now, his movements no longer slow and teasing but kind of rough and desperate, his legs and body shaking as he pounded me again and again, teeth grazing me with that ferocity I'd only seen in Legolas at this time, arms grasping me hard as his body grounded me. It was me that had the release first, gasping against his neck with a muffled moan, as his wet skin continued to slide against mine with rough quick movements, until Legolas froze inside me and groaned against my lips, his legs shaking as he released all the tension he must have been holding.

We slid down again, tangled in each other, both trembling, Legolas murmuring things against my ear in Elvish that I wished I could understand.

"I must go soon."

"Already?"

"To join Aragorn outside, I must." Legolas didn't let me go though, he didn't seem able or willing, he leaned against me as he kissed the skin he'd bitten, brushing my wet hair aside.

I leaned back to gaze into his face. One hour was not enough. He started to move, probably to dress or something, and I grasped at him as a slight resentment built in me. He'd said he'd been here for two hours before me. "Why hadn't you called for me earlier?"

"I could not find you fast enough." Legolas gently untangled my hands, standing slowly, reaching out for where he'd piled his and my clothing neatly. In two piles. "I found Lady Eowyn. Moving without being seen and listening for you is no small task in this city. This city is quieter than I am used to."

"Quieter?" Reluctantly I got to my feet as well, taking my clothing and dressing, Legolas brushing against me with his hand almost every chance he got. I couldn't resist touching him either, his arm, his shoulder, his neck, now seeing the bruises and injuries clearly, wishing I'd not been so wrapped up in him earlier... was I supposed to apply ointment or something?

"The stone muffles voices." Legolas reached up to touch his ear, brushing his damp hair out of his face as he did, before he bent down to tug his leggings over his damp legs. I had to admit it I may have looked a little harder at him as he did this. "Let us dress quickly."

Moving over, I helped him dress a bit faster, and stood there as Legolas helped me re-hook and re-lace and re-trap body in the dress thing.

"So I stand around and wave as you ride in?" I frowned. There it was again, the resentment again, feeling like I was being manipulated around without anyone explaining why. "Did you and Eowyn decide to keep me here?" Safe? I turned my back, reaching for my boots, only to feel Legolas' hand rest on my shoulder.

"No. You and I ride in together. That is your horse outside the window. The Lady Eowyn and Lord Faramir did speak." Legolas had come over, reaching out to run his fingers through my wet hair, and I felt him weaving it together as I leaned against his back. He kissed my shoulder as he worked quickly. "I overheard them as I found her. He wished for you to remain behind. There are fears of your pregnancy weakening you. Fears that your body would not handle the stress of such a long ride, that you had been seen struggling to walk still, and ...it was agreed to get you to remain behind."

"Oh." I supposed that made sense. I sighed. I didn't like it. Why didn't they just ask me? Except, of course, for the obvious reason of me wanting to say no and go anyway. I should have been angry but somehow I was just tired by this. I suspected Boromir had Faramir had probably already discussed it. Legolas hadn't said it but ...it was a feeling I had. And it tired me. Boromir tired me. Minas Tirith was suddenly not feeling quite so comfortable.

"Braid my hair?"

The sentence was kind of weird, from my Elf, and I chuckled softly and tried to relax. Twisting around, I twisted his damp hair into those tiny braids he seemed to like, exposing his ears, Legolas' grey eyes boring into me as I did it. "You are upset."

"People telling me what to do and how to be. And I think Boromir has something to do with it." I had to talk to Legolas about Boromir anyway. Now that Legolas was here in front of me, I kept remembering the morning Boromir had left, and just felt increasingly uncomfortable. It wasn't that I wanted Legolas to deal with it... but I needed to see his reaction. Needed to know if I was overreacting to that or not.

Eowyn hadn't tried to hold me back, I remembered, she'd told me how to ride just before. Maybe she was trying to balance pleasing Faramir and doing what she felt was right? Surely women in Rohan rode horses, even during pregnancy, because horses were such an important part of their lives. But the most important opinion wasn't hers. I fixed my eyes in Legolas eyes. "Are you worried about me riding right now?"

He didn't answer for a few long seconds, and my fingers slid through his hair, and I saw a flicker of something. Maybe he was afraid. Maybe. "I spoke to the Lady Eowyn. She told you to move your hips with the horse. To not run. That you would know when to stop. It is a short ride." He slid his hand down my stomach, over the dress, adding softer, "You have been through worse. I trust you to protect our son."

Our son. He trusted me. It was a relief to hear him say it, even though I knew Legolas did trust me, and I felt my shoulders slump. "Thank you. Where are we going?"

"We walk towards the army. Not a twenty minute walk out, I have our horses waiting, and there Gimli is camped."

"Gimli! You just left him there?"

"He would not go a step further." Legolas chuckled softly, open affection in his face, adding, "He told me to catch him something to eat and to leave him there to eat."

"You dragged him with you." Poor Gimli. He must have been buggered and, with the usual Dwarf stubbornness, had done his best to stay awake anyway. I finished Legolas other braid, stepped back, and tugged on my bots. "Well, we better join him."

"He will be glad to see you."

He would be when I brought him some food from outside, anyway, I was already picturing what to grab on our way out. As Legolas bent down to pull on his boots, I opened the door slowly, peering out into the little kitchen area.

"There is no one there." Legolas informed me, sliding his bow over his shoulder, leaning against my back as he joined me. He slipped past, hand grazing mine and fingers squeezing mine a moment, and his emotions faded away into his distant Elf mask thing. He tugged his hood over his face and ears, I did the same, and we headed for the door. "Follow me."

His fingers held onto mine right until the last second, until we were slipping out of the little house, only letting go when we were outside.

Somehow, with Legolas' help, we managed to slip through the crowd with the horse without drawing attention. Faramir and Eowyn, I noticed, barely left each other's side. I doubt they would have noticed me even if I'd shouted. I bought some of the food, much to Legolas bemusement, muttering 'For Gimli' as I slid the waxed cloth bag onto my belt and tied it there firmly. The main gate wasn't left alone- people came in and out all the time- so it didn't surprise anyone when we slipped out of it side by side.

When we were outside, I mounted awkwardly, Legolas jumping lightly on in front of me without so much as a soft exhale. Stupid Elf acrobatics. I bit his neck to make sure he knew how I felt, which made him laugh, like he could read my mind.

"Focus on riding." He called softly as he squeezed the horses sides.

We made our way from Minas Tirith, over the land that was no longer smooth grassy plains, moving around large areas that had been torn apart, around large boulders that must have been flung from Minas Tirith, or the areas where the dead had been gathered and burnt. It was hard to ever imagine that this land would ever look the same, it was so torn apart by the battle, by the horse hooves, with barely any grass remaining. It was mostly mud and dirt now. Even now I saw, sometimes, a horse that they had not yet buried or burnt. It was kind of disgusting and I had to stare into Legolas cloak covered shoulders and pretend I didn't smell it. Girly? Maybe. But I was sick of war.

It was hard to ride to, even now, but somehow I managed to hang on now. It was like I'd been energised. Legolas here? Suddenly I could ride horses, and bounce over things, and … swing swords, if I had to.

Still, it was with great relief when I smelt the smoke of a fire that wasn't related to the battle and saw a small stocky body standing there on the edge of a hill beside a cluster of trees and a familiar white horse, waving their arms, a familiar laugh echoing across to us. The second I was off the horse, Gimli had embraced me, laughing, shaking his head up at me.

"Lass, are you a sight for a sore dwarf!"

"You'll love me more with this." I untied the little sack and held it out. "I know Dwarves have more needs than Elves."

Gimli gazed down into the bag, cheeks flushing with pleasure under his beard, and grasped my hand again. "Thank you, thank you. One measly fish. _One_! A Dwarf needs more."

"I had to rush." Legolas was moving up the slope a little, eyes fixed on the horizon. "They are half an hour's ride away now."

"Good. I'm hungry." Gimli sat back down and started to eat from the bag, legs crossed, his helm still on the ground where he'd left it. "You look stronger, lass."

"I feel better." It was true too. I sat beside him, relaxing back, watching the sky. I was hungry as well. But I could wait. Gimli was the one who'd travelled all that way with Legolas because Legolas had wanted to rush back to me. I felt so grateful to Gimli for putting up with it. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Gimli had followed my eyes to Legolas. He seemed to understand what I was saying because he chuckled softly and shut his eyes. "I did not think of having a woman before now."

"A dwarf women?"

"Dwarves do not worry so much for marriage. There are so few daughters born, and so much desire to mine, that we are not so worried." Gimli was eating the bread, now that he'd stuffed it with the hot cheese and the other things I'd gotten for him, crumbs already all over his beard. "But to see the Elf obsess with his woman so much..."

"I do not obsess." Legolas muttered, crossing his arms, gazing out still towards where he must have seen the army.

"It makes me wonder if I want a part of that madness."

"It's a fun madness." Sort of. I smiled as I saw Legolas twist slightly in my direction, the side of his face now viewable to me, aware of his attention on me a fraction more.

"I have many other things to think about first." Gimli burped, coughing somewhat as it went the wrong way, and I patted his back as he grasped for his water bottle and drank a long drink.

"Other things?"

"Aye. Plans. Your Elf can stay with you while I get them in motion." Gimli gazed out. "I have long dreamed of creating a new city within the Glittering Caves themselves. Now, once I have seen Aragorn crowned, I will do it."

"Your own city." Wow, that was a massive dream. I stared at Gimli as he sat there. Was this how it was supposed to go? I didn't know. "Wow."

"No small task to undertake. But now, I feel I am ready." Gimli gazed at the sky. "Having seen the beauty of the caves, I can think of nothing else."

I wondered if Legolas was supposed to have been with him during that. Once again I felt guilt, guilt and confusion, Boromir springing to mind exactly now when I didn't want him to. When I wanted to be angry with him. It broke my heart to think that I was changing Legolas and Gimli, knowing how important they were to each other, but … I knew Boromir had no destiny I could ruin.

The thought made me feel sick so I shoved it away.

After a while I felt the rumble of the army approaching, the hooves, heard the clanking of armour, and stood up to stand beside Legolas to watch them. There they were.

"Did many die?" I asked softly. Professional warrior distance had resumed- neither I or Legolas touched now, we had that distance again, and it didn't bother me. Once again I was back into warrior mode. Maybe this was something in me I didn't loose, injury or not.

"A fair amount." Legolas admitted softly. "But many were saved by Frodo. I did not get time to check him. Is he-"

"He's fine."

Legolas and Gimli both sighed with relief.

"He's asleep. Gandalf said he might be for a while yet. He was very tired." I wasn't sure what else. Could destroying the ring do something to him, physically? Who knew. Gandalf was the right person for the job though.

"Do we know what happened yet?" Gimli was moving to stand on my other side now, his helm in one hand.

"Not yet." Well, I could tell them, but … it wasn't for me to do it. Not really. Was it? "I'm sure we'll find out."

No questions were asked of me, to my relief, we only stood there. Waiting.

As the army drew closer, I did see that it was pretty small, Gandalf leading the way on Shadowfax and further behind was another part of the army. They were some distance off, slower, so I had to assume they were the injured or the ones without horses. The one approaching was reasonably fast.

"We should ride down to meet them." Legolas stepped back, heading back to where Gimli had a small fire going, and started to bury it. I copied him as Gimli got both horses ready, the two of us getting the fire buried so it didn't start a fire in the dry landscape, the mad urge to wipe ash across Legolas nose too good to resist.

He twisted away, as I attempted to get ash on his perfect face, a hand grasping mine and shoving it safely onto the ground. I swore I saw the hint of a smile cracking through his mask though. Maybe.

"Don't ride fast." He instructed me, standing, brushing the ash and dirt on his pants. Amazingly I only now noticed how dirty Legolas was. The battle hadn't been kind to his usual flawless appearance. Was it crazy that I still found this hot? His tiredness? The dirt on his armour? The rip there, so obvious to me, and the way that even after a bath he still seemed to have very little control over his hair for once?

Gimli pushed reins into my hand, distracting me, and with another glance at my messy Elf, I climbed back up into the saddle. Gimli behind Legolas, Legolas checking the buried fire once more, before we were heading down the slope towards the army.

Aragorn looked amazing. I had never seen him so well dressed, even after days of battle, even when the smell of the army could be picked up from hundreds of metres away. And the smile he gave me when we finally were close enough to make eye contact just added to the effect. The armour of a King suited him so much. He rode ahead of the crowd, as I'd seen King Theodan do once, Gandalf to one side of him, the other space open. Legolas moved ahead to take it.

I rode to the side of the army somewhat, intending on staying back until they'd gone in, starting to become painfully aware of Gondor's customs. But when a horse rode past, my reins were grabbed, and Boromir more or less led my horse into the space behind Aragorn beside him without bothering to ask me. Clearly he intended on me riding in WITH them. Great. Break tradition again. What could be wrong with that?

But when I glanced back, I saw no resentful soldiers, no one seemed to care. Maybe being apart of the last battle counted for something?

I opened my mouth to snap but there was someone behind him, tired faced, beaming at me from under one of the small Gondor helms. Pippin's genuinely happy face cut my swearing off before I let it rip.

"Wendy!" Pippin called, waving, from behind Boromir. "You look great!"

"You look tired!"

He didn't look the least bit put off by my comment. Pippin grinned. Boromir seemed pretty cheerful too, moving up to ride just off Aragorn's side, Legolas somehow slowing his horse a little to join me behind them.

It seemed kind of weird. Legolas, a Prince, at the back. This was something Boromir had wanted though. Riding beside Aragorn, his helm off, the wind in his hair and his face obvious to everyone. The Captain of Gondor returning beside his King.

I rolled my eyes and concentrated on doing the 'roll hips with hooves' thing that Eowyn had told me to do. Legolas was riding at my side. Or I was riding at his side. This was probably perfect as far as he was concerned. Eomer appeared on my other side. Like it or not, I was here now, and I had to accept it.

The ride to Minas Tirth was faster on the return, I was sure of it, sure we were moving faster. Somehow I was kind of relieved about this- it made the time in the battlefield less overpowering for my poor nose. This was contrasted a little by the stink from the soldiers and horses. Ten days of this had not been kind to them. I wondered if they'd even seen water since they'd left.

It had to be one of the quickest battles away from city for a long time though. People had probably smelt worse. Up ahead was the gap where the gate had once been, the sounds of the crowd already echoing across, and the closer we all rode to it, the more smells of food overtook the smell of the battlefield. We saw kids ducking in and out of the gate, mothers chasing them, life greeting the weary soldiers who could ride ahead after Aragorn. There were banners raised all across the walls of Minas Tirith, great white banners several times larger than men, fluttering in the breeze, the rain gone and replaced by sunshine that set each white banner glowing against the grey-white stone. Petals raining down already, fluttering in the breeze, white and red petals that must have had some meaning for the people of Gondor.

Aragorn gazed up as a sound echoed suddenly, this long loud clear sound that echoed far across the plains around the White City. Horns. Not just one, but many, and I swore I saw Boromir's face damp with tears when his head followed the sounds from one side of the city to the other. My anger with him faded at the expression on his face. Joy. Pure, real joy, and relief. He'd made it home.

We came into the gate, the army behind us narrowing to join us, and to my surprise Aragorn did not stop in the courtyard. He continued to ride up the sloping twisting road, which I had to assume was normal, though I didn't get to ask. When I glanced back, I saw some soldiers had stopped, but others rode on.

Keeping my attention mostly on the 'move your hips' thing, as the ride was faster than I'd expected, I would occasionally glance back as we wound up Minas Tirith and noticed that it was always the same. Soldiers separating. I had to guess this was the tradition- that they would only leave formation when they were home. Riding right up to the doors of their families.

This may have meant any other time that I might have had to stop at the house Eowyn and myself stopped at, maybe, but there seemed to be a different rule for a group of the soldiers. We kept winding up and up, Gimli muttering about feeing sick, passing crowds of family waiting, until there was only a small group. I had to guess that for people of a certain ...rank? Privilege? ...That we got to go to the top spot, the massive flat area. The longer-than-expected ride made me crave my own home right now though. Steadily over the ride, my chest had started to hurt again, and my leg struggled to hang on, I'd more or less used up what energy I had. It was a lot less than it used to be.

My suspicions were confirmed when we reached the top. Up here was another crowd, a more well dressed group of people, and another explosion of feathers, music, the smell of food also here. But it was a lot more polished up here, the food, the music, it was less ...lively. It had this air of being much more planned.

Relieved it was over, I dismounted, nearly tripping over swishy swish skirt in the process. The smells of everyone, as much as I liked them, was starting to bug my stomach a little too much. And I was surprised how much the ride had tired me out. Maybe I was just getting old. Or getting pregnant. Either one was very likely.

I stood there, keeping normal by putting weight on the good leg and using the bad one to stay balanced, watching as soldiers were given food and embraced by their families. A little less display of emotion with this crowd as well. Almost. But …

I watched as a man embraced Boromir and Faramir alike, this dark haired man that was quite a bit older than both of them, and wondered who that was. A friend? I'd ask later.

To my surprise though, rather than head for their homes, those who'd come up here were heading into the big hall itself. "Where are they all going?"

Legolas moved closer to me, touching my elbow lightly, leaning closer to whisper softly, "You can rest a moment and let your stomach settle. All soldiers have baths ready. In their homes or, for those of higher rank, in a shared bath within the bathhouse. Then, a feast. This food is for them to take with them." He added, softer, that slightly bemused face returning, "Women also wait for those without wives."

Women. It shocked me how much I hated the idea of this. Boromir. A random prostitute. I hated it. I hated that I'd even have feelings about it, that I'd want to have a say in that, because who Boromir slept with wasn't my business.

Anyway, since when did Minas Tirith have a bathhouse? I supposed that was impressive. And since when did Legolas know at one glance how I felt? Maybe Legolas had heard my stomach getting ready to hurl. Maybe not. Maybe he'd just guessed. He was good at reading me these days.

Naturally, I wasn't expected to go to the bathhouse, and Legolas didn't bother following. Gimli did though, grunting about needing hot water, and it wasn't long before the welcoming crowd of higher ranked Gondor people vanished as well. Only now did I see Eowyn, separating from her brother with a quick hug, and Faramir with Boromir, vanishing into a doorway with him and that older dark haired man. Others were coming to take the horses, leading them off, Legolas drawing me to one side as we watched people leave. The effort of walking to the side hurt my pride- I couldn't hide the limp now, and Legolas noticed. His teeth actually clenched.

"Feast tonight then?" I asked softly, sliding my hand into his hand, not so concerned now if people saw it or not.

"Yes." Legolas responded, eyes on the crowds, his head tilting just a fraction as he listened into the others. "They are readying it now."

"You and your hearing."

Legolas smiled a little, leaning his weight against my arm a little more, hand tightening around mine. "I hear them discussing plans to ready you for it.

"Oh man." I muttered. Uh oh. At the best times I struggled to be patient with those pinchy dresses. Now? It hurt to stand. I didn't want to wear a heavy dress. "Where can we hide?"

"You need rest. Not dresses." Legolas was on my side with this then. He moved forward, a little too quickly, and slowed when he saw that my body wasn't going to move that way. "Where is your home?"

"Down a level." I was already picturing the walk and was not looking forward to it. No horses. We just had to get on with it. And stop reacting to Boromir. Nothing he did should affect me. Nothing.

Eowyn managed to catch up to us, not exactly a hard thing to do, but she didn't shove a dress at me. Instead she made me stop and list off every ache and pain to some other woman who was apparently the midwife for the city. Only when they were satisfied these pains were not pregnancy related, except for the nausea which they'd decided was, did they let me go.

The walk down to our little house was harder on Legolas than it was on me. I could see it in his body language, even if he hid his emotions under his public mask, see him stiffen, and hover, and keep his attention constnatly fixed on me. I could cope with the aches, the muscles that were too used right now to really work properly, with needing to limp. I could cope with walking slowly and resting when I needed to. This was how I'd gotten stronger to begin with- walking and figuring out when it was time to just take it easy. I'd also noticed that walking downhill was harder for me. Maybe it was because I needed to use my leg muscles more so I didn't fall flat on my face?

Legolas couldn't seem to handle it. He kept glancing over his shoulder at me when I slowed or sat down, his body would tense, and he'd ask the same questions over and over automatically. "Are you in pain?" Or he'd go with, "Should I bring a cart?" which usually had a pretty strong NO. This was an area of mortality he clearly wasn't used to dealing with yet. The fact that we hurt, we ached, and sometimes our bodies just needed time. Time wasn't a lot we had to begin with, as far as he was concerned, so maybe he'd assumed over the past ten days I'd healed.

I sat there, just thirty metres from our house, regaining some energy for the last stretch as I watched him. It'd gotten increasingly hard to walk as we made our way down the slope, like this was the final straw for my muscles, and I had barely been able to put weight on my leg.

Legolas stood against the edge of Minas Tirith, back stiff, arms beside his sides but held there. It was his 'scouting' posture, I realised, and yet there was nothing for him to see. Nothing for him to protect me from. It was just Legolas trying to cope with watching me be in pain. Pain which would take some time to heal, sure, but it would go away eventually. It wasn't like I'd just bruised my leg. I'd had a piece of metal go right through my body and had a horse step on my leg.

"You know I'll heal, right?" I said quietly. Legolas flinched just a tiny bit and didn't turn around. Oh man. He was really worried. "It's probably a torn ligament or something. It'll just take a few months."

I hoped it wasn't longer than that. A few months was clearly not what he wanted to hear. Legolas didn't even look at me, he crossed his arms, and went back to scouting.

How would he cope with the birth?

"How long have you been limping?"

"I guess since you left. That's not that long for ..." For humans? I'd kept trying to tell him that I wasn't Elf. "It's not long. The healing could take months." I figured where it was, where the horse had trod on me, somewhat glad it was THAT which was the worst thing. It was a miracle it hadn't been the sword. The bruise was just a few inches up from my kneecap and still felt swollen. It felt worse than this morning. "Maybe I should keep walking with the walking stick until it heals properly."

This was not what Legolas wanted to hear. Shoulders got more tense. He shifted on the spot. Did not even look back at me.

When I went to stand, he'd suddenly turned, and lifted me up. Just like that. Legolas stared ahead, mask still on, holding onto me.

"Show me the way. If it is that bad, then you should not walk at all."

I wasn't sure he was right. I gestured to the building and Legolas strode forward, faster than before, ignoring the stares we got as we moved through the streets from some of the kids that were outside.

Legolas moved inside, up the stairs, and when I pointed, into my room. Slowly he lowered me down, fingers sliding up to grasp the waistband of my pants, ignoring me as he drew them down.

Yeah, it had swollen pretty bad. I probably overdid it a little. Legolas went to rub it and froze when I hissed in pain and pushed him back, pain shooting up and down body. "Not helpful, Elf-boy."

"I should find a healer."

"They've been." I started to undo the dress as he stood up to pace, slowly undoing the laces, lying back down. Phew. It was a relief to be off my legs. "They come every day. I just did too much today. It'll be fine tomorrow." Or in a few days, anyway.

Legolas returned to my side, bending over me to undo the dress for me, and helped me get it off. I lay there in the under-shirt and undergarments, watching him as he idly folded up my dress and pants, sliding them onto a table. Tidying up. It was nice of him.

He looked tired though. Maybe that was the problem. Legolas was tired so he was freaking out a little.

"How long till the feast?"

"Some time yet." Legolas muttered. "Will not start until darkfall."

Darkfall. I liked that word. I opened my arms to him, which seemed to amuse him through his worry, and slowly Legolas undressed as well.

"I will not lie with you while your leg is as it is." He warned me. He eyed it, as Legolas carefully climbed into the other side of the bed, eyed it like it was something dangerous.

"Fine by me. Don't know how you'd do that without touching it anyway." I slid across, gritting my teeth as this made my leg have to move, and curled against his side. "Relax. Let's have a nap."

"A nap?"

"Means you only sleep for a little while. Get some energy back." I tugged Legolas down against my chest, running my fingers through his hair and across his back, trying to comfort him. The Elf was so damn tense. "It's okay, really."

"I don't like watching you in pain." Legolas muttered. His hand slid across my side, slowly, teasing my skin with slow gentle motions. "You look so tired."

"Get used to it, Leggy, because if I'm really pregnant then there'll be a point where that's all I am. Tired and in pain." I reached down with my free hand to touch that spot. Life. It was still so hard to tell. If I pressed my hand there, or here, I could almost ...feel it. Almost. Or wait, maybe, was that it? I wasn't sure if I was feeling where a baby was or some organ. Now that I was down I felt my body just shut down too. _Sleep_. Sleep sounded _amazing_. "We've got lots to catch up on."

"In the morning."

It wasn't long before I'd started to fall asleep, holding Legolas against me, relieved to have him home. Home. Turned out wherever he was equalled home. I was sure there was a song about that somewhere.

We missed the feast. I was sure we'd woken up at some point, Legolas as sleepy as I was, and we'd muttered something about getting up for the feast. But for once in the time I'd known him, Legolas was just too exhausted to get up, and I had to admit I agreed with him. We went back to sleep, arms aching as we refused to let go of each other, legs tangled around each other. Eowyn came in at one point and left just as fast as she'd come in. It wasn't like we'd done anything, Legolas wasn't even undressed, but I'd lifted my head as she vanished and remembered that she was probably still a virgin. Probably.

Legolas was with me in my dreams. It didn't mean much, sometimes he was there, sometimes he wasn't, but I was always aware of him sleeping beside me even as I slept deeply. It was this comforting energy, this warmth, and I slept feeling safer than I had for days.

When I woke, he was still asleep, curled up on his side, his hair askew and ...his thumb in his mouth. Early morning sunlight drifted in through the balcony, illuminating us and the bed, a cloud drifting past the high city.

I had to really hold in giggles when I saw that. It was only the tip of his thumb, really, but I suddenly saw what he must have been like as a boy. Blonde lashes on his cheeks, silky soft blonde hair, a faint flush in his cheeks as he dreamed. He was clearly dreaming- his eyes were fluttering like crazy under his eyelids. It was kind of cute. I ran my hand over his face, through his hair, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently.

The door opened as I kissed his smooth cheek, heart fuzzy with affection, and I ignored whoever it was.

A sharp pain ripped through my side, sudden, as Legolas' eyes snapped open. It was confusing. I stared at him, suddenly tasting something metallic, aware of how unfocused his eyes were. How I couldn't breathe properly. His fist in my side.

Boromir's muffled roar was drowned out by the roaring of blood in my own ears.

His _knife_ buried in my side.


	20. Weight

Boromir had stabbed me.

Or had Legolas done it?

It hurt to breathe. I felt pain, sort of, but strangely enough I was more aware of everything else. The blood running down, staining everything, Legolas sitting half-upright in front of me with his face so pale that I might have thought he'd been the one wounded. Stabbed. Boromir behind me. That was why I was sitting up still- I knew he was hanging onto me, I knew his hand was clasped onto my side. He was shouting things. Things that were muffled and far away.

Legolas just sat there, red splattered on him, in complete shock. Anger behind me. Shock in front. And the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears.

Not to mention the weird sense of drowning. Like the river. I was drowning. And I couldn't open my mouth to tell him.

"Wake up, woman. Elf."

A face was hovering over us.

I nearly punched Boromir, eyes flying open, still gasping for air. I grasped for the space in my side, grasped for where I had been stabbed, but I found nothing there. Legolas was awake, sitting there, looking pale. Almost sitting in the exact same position he had been before when he'd been...

But I wasn't stabbed. I wasn't even slightly in pain. Had it been another of those fucking dreams?

I was confused, panting, staring at Legolas. It took him some time to really see me, or to see Boromir, he was as much in shock here as he had been before. His grey eyes kept sliding from myself to Boromir, like he was struggling to really see us, and when he finally snapepd into reality, his entire body tensed like a coiled wire and sprung at Boromir with more rage than I could have ever believed from the usually contained Elf. Fingers actually grasped around Boromir's throat, shoving him back from the bed, Legolas only letting go when he'd slammed Boromir against the door itself. "Boromir, this is _Wenduin's room_."

"And you both are to be at the feast." Boromir responded, standing, arms on hips. "Both of you. I have been given clear orders to retrieve you."

"Wenduin's leg needs rest."

To Legolas' annoyance, Boromir actually pushed past him to my side, not even bothering to hide the fact that he'd just shoved Legolas aside. He grabbed the blankets, eyes darting to my side and then down to my leg, ignoring my attempts at kicking him with my good leg.

"Hey, calm down. It's just sprained." I shoved him back but I wasn't as angry as Legolas was. He almost seemed to have lost it somewhat. Shock and anger kept flickering, his brow slippery with sweat, it was probably taking all of his self-control to not throw Boromir over the balcony right now.

So we must have shared the dream. Somehow I knew it. Legolas wouldn't have been so upset otherwise.

He stepped forward, grasping Boromir's shoulder, and more or less dragged him back again so I could cover my leg with the blankets.

Boromir had looked at my side though. Where I had been stabbed. "You saw it too?"

"Saw what?" Boromir dropped my grey cloak from Lothlorien around my shoulders, eyes off anything below my chin, so clearly he wasn't completely insensitive. Just mostly. He crossed his arms. "You both seemed to be having a bad dream."

"Is that why you entered without knocking?"

"I did knock. I shouted. I pretended to open the door. I opened the door. I sat on your bed. I stood on your bed. I jumped. Only lifting Wenduin to sitting did I wake her." Boromir listed these things off on his fingers. But, for all his charm and easy joking, his eyes were fixed on both of us. He wasn't kidding- I could see boot prints on the bed. "What is the matter with the two of you?"

The surprising thing, I realised, was that for once Boromir wasn't doing his usual invasive ...stare. Thing. Here I was, sitting with my boobs all unbound and stuff, and he wasn't even pretending to try and get a look through the shirt. Yes, he was joking around, but even his eyes were distant. Either he'd seen it too, which I doubted, or he was as surprise by Legolas loosing it as I was.

Legolas stood there, arms crossed, still pale. He couldn't look at me. I knew without asking that we'd shared it. What the hell kind of dream was that? Stabbing? It had felt real. I'd felt it. He stared at my side, flexing his hands, eyes still somewhat unfocused. He wanted to get out of here but not with Boromir staying. Funny. I'd gone telepathic or something to his anger. Maybe that was just common sense.

"Are you both all right?" Boromir's smile faded. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, concern bringing out the lines in his face.

"Good. I need to change though. Legolas, it's okay."

I didn't know. I was confused. Legolas didn't answer, didn't even look at me, he picked up his pack and started to dress in the silver tunic. The second he'd changed, he was out the door, his true mask covering his emotions. Even I couldn't see past it.

"What happened, Wenduin?"

"I don't know." I muttered. As if we needed anything else crappy right now. Legolas was having a hard enough time dealing with my injured leg. Was that it? Was this his fears, his nightmares, that I'd been involved in? At some point in the past he'd actually told me he'd join me in my dreams. What if I'd seen something of his?

Now that I was calming down, now that I was relaxing, I started to wonder if that was it. He had said he dreamed or seen my death a lot. I just hadn't... hadn't really thought about what that had meant for Legolas. What he had to witness again and again, in all different ways, and the latest? Somehow Boromir was involved. I still wasn't sure how the hell it had happened.

Boromir moved to the balcony and stood there. He was probably watching Legolas leave.

Now that the nightmare was fading, I had to guess that was what I'd just witnessed, this terrible raw fear that he was trying to hide. I'd had a dream about dying in front of him once before. I had to assume that this was similar. I had to let it go. Or something.

"I don't think he's coping well with my injuries." I muttered, quietly, standing up slowly. Now I couldn't even put weight on that leg. Boromir twisted around to watch me as I grasped for the walking stick and though he didn't rush to help I saw the same concern. Only for him it was more open, less hidden, and he fixed his attention onto me. "I think we shared a nightmare."

"Are they that bad? Your injures?"

"It depends. I did too much today." I leaned against the stick, moving heavily for the chest of dresses, somehow okay right now with him watching me. I'd kick him out when I dressed but I didn't feel naked, not really, I was covered. "I think it'll calm down if I rest."

"No dancing tonight then." Boromir nodded slowly, moving inside, sliding the curtains shut as he entered. He started to move around the room with a little lantern he must have brought, lighting candles and lights, until the room was lit in a warm comforting glow. "Twas a dream, Wenduin, relax. Let me see the injury. I have seen much in my men."

I wished I could. I sighed and slid the blanket off my leg again. He probably had seen a lot, the man was a soldier after all, and he didn't seem the least bit interested in _that_ mood at the moment.

He knelt in front of me, hands clasping my injured leg carefully, inspecting it carefully with an experienced eye.

"You seen a lot of these?" He might have. Captain of Gondor, and all that, probably seen all kinds of injuries.

"I have. When a blunt weapon or the hoof of an animal strikes a muscle." Boromir stood slowly. "Rest. Rest is all you can do. It has been but a short time. Do not push your body. Let it heal."

"I think Legolas thinks it's healing too slow." I muttered.

"You are not his kin. Your healing is normal. Some men do not walk straight again but most do." Boromir was actually heading for my dresses now. I watched him as he lifted them up, one by one, weighing them. "Are all dresses so heavy?"

"You know this is probably a bit too familiar? Going through my dresses?"

"I asked the Lady Eowyn but my brother threatened to cut off my head if I distracted them. They seemed to be having a discussion ." Boromir grinned. I kind of doubted he'd said that literal phrase but... He went back to the dresses. "Were you one of my soldiers, Wendy, I would insist you wear only light clothing. Why is not a single dress light!"

"You kidding? You seen how much fabric they stitch into those things?" I shifted over, one hand on the walking stick, the other keeping the cloak closed, glancing back to where Legolas had vanished. He probably hadn't gone far, still within hearing distance, and I was half tempted to call him back. Nope. Better to let him deal with it. I hoped he was okay though.

Boromir didn't answer. He was leaving a pile of dresses.

Eowyn came in, as he was getting halfway, and the look on her face when she saw him fingering my clothing was hilarious. She was gorgeous, all dressed up again, and yet when she saw him that dangerous 'warrior' expression returned. Boromir was doomed.

"Out!"

"You were busy with my br-"

"Get out, Boromir!" Wow, she was pissed, she had scrapped the lord part. Boromir seemed to love it though. His teasing face was back on as she chased him out, the twinkle back in his eye, before Eowyn turned on me. "Your leg. Is it bad?"

"It's not happy. Not the end of the world."

"Why not kick him out then? The pest." Eowyn made an exasperated sigh as she stared at the mess Boromir had left behind. "Why did he throw your dresses everywhere?"

"Your future brother in law. I think he was complaining about them being too heavy."

"Maybe he's right. Do not tell him I said s-"

"I heard you!"

Eowyn growled softly, shooting a glare at the door, as she lifted a dark brown-red dress. "Boromir-"

"I'm not coming in." I heard a thump against my door and had to guess that Boromir had just settled himself against it. "But I was told to bring her and Legolas, by Aragorn, and so I'm doing it."

Yeah, right. I met Eowyn's eyes. She smiled somewhat, standing, and moved across. "This is a lighter weight dress. It was made for you, for summer, when you were heavier with child. Stay close to the fires and you will be warm. The warmth of the fires will help your leg ease. Do not dance tonight."

I hadn't been planning on it anyway, to be perfectly honest, so I just nodded and stayed quiet.

She helped me dress, I had to lean on her, and when it was done I had to admit it was quite a bit lighter than the last lot I'd been wearing. Silkier, softer, like it was all silk. The skirt was much fuller and once Eowyn had belted me up, I could see why it'd been made for pregnancy. It was not clingy. The bodice part was only around my breasts so the skirts were free to expand as they had to. And now that I looked closer, it had gold thread through the bodice,

"During pregnancy a woman's body can become warmer. It was made for you, so that you would be comfortable during the summer heat, and so that your body could swell unhindered" Eowyn explained softly. "In Gondor it is custom to gift a pregnant woman with a dress such as this. They do not believe that a woman's stomach should be bound when she is pregnant by a tight bodice. This was a gift from the city to you. Wearing it tonight, and at the coronation, will be very appropriate."

"Good." I wanted to be that. Last thing I needed right now was to do the wrong thing. I breathed out slowly and when she slid a knife onto the belt, and into a hidden pocket thing in the skirt, I had to admit, I was pretty happy to see a weapon again. "That's probably not custom."

"No." Eowyn smiled somewhat. "Not according to the men. But the women do it anyway. No woman walks the streets alone without these. They just hide them."

"Helpless women, my ass."

She laughed, shaking her head at my curse, whacking me somewhat. "Helpless? Not often. Now sit down and let me do something with hair."

I sat down on the bed, Eowyn kneeling behind me, and sat there like a good girl as she yanked and teased knots out. Both of us ignored Boromir's attempts to get us to hurry up.

What had I dreamed?

Eowyn was twisting my hair as I sat there, probably a braid or something, getting it behind my head.

"Did you see Legolas on the way down here?"

"No. But Elves are difficult to see when they want to be." Eowyn responded. "Did you argue?"

"No. Not exactly." I held back telling her about his fears. Wasn't sure why, why I could tell Boromir and not her, maybe it just felt like I couldn't tell too many people about it. "I don't know what's happening there."

"Then do not worry about it. Men have strange moods as we do. I imagine Elves are not so different as we think." Eowyn traced her fingers over my neck, laughing softly, adding, "They bite the same."

Oh. I went red as she found one of his bite marks, twisting a little, suddenly wondering if I should put a scarf on or something. "Is it obvious?"

"No. Boromir!" Eowyn's shout matched Boromir's latest bang, sudden, and she called, "Get us a horse and cart. Wenduin should not walk up there."

"As you wish, my lady." Boromir vanished down the stairs, we listened to his heavy feet head down the stairs at a run, before Eowyn spoke again.

"Is it painful?" Her voice had dropped, soft, and I twisted around carefully to face her. Eowyn stared at me with the expression of someone afraid. Actually afraid. "That which is done between man and woman?"

That was right. She'd lost her mother young. "Has _anyone_ talked to you about this?"

"My aunt did, once. She told me that I must lie back and trust the man." Eowyn gazed past me. She was older than me, so it was so strange to think she knew nothing, so strange to think that she had no clue about these things. "I have seen mating animals, Wenduin, and have seen the shadows of couples in the dark. I have heard it hurts."

"Only the first time." I responded quietly. Lie back and trust the man. Yeah. Like that did any good for anyone. "The first time it can be a bit painful. It was for me. But I wasn't really thinking about it. I felt too good to care."

"_Good_?" Eowyn didn't seem to believe me. "It feels _good_?"

"Why else do you think we keep doing it?" Oh man. Was I going to have to give her the sex talk? At least it was making it easy to relax about Legolas. "Of course it feels good. You know how it's done, don't you? So you know-"

"I know that the man's member enters our body where we bleed." The words made Eowyn's cheeks go a little pink. "I had heard that can hurt. It seeds our body with a child. If we are strong we may hold that child and carry it to birth."

"Yeah, if he doesn't play with you first. It gives you ...well, half a seed." How would I explain this biology? Man, I wished I'd thought to rehearse or something. "Well, uh. Strength isn't really apart of it. See- our body has a egg inside it, like a chicken, except our eggs are much too small to be seen." I explained to her the biology as simply as possible, Eowyn staring at me, adding, "So it really is chance. They do lots of their little ...seed things in that white stuff." Did she even know it was white? Oh well, she did now. "Millions. And then they all race each other up into the womb. Some get lost, some die, some go the wrong way, and by the time they reach the egg we've released, only about ten of them are remaining, and they are exhausted. So it doesn't always work and the man has to try again. Eventually one of his seeds pushes into the egg and boom. Baby is created."

"That is..."

"Hard to believe?"

"It is not what I was told." Eowyn laughed, suddenly, shaking her head. "But I prefer this story."

"They proved it. We have these things, these tools, that let us see things so small we can't see them with the eye. Like men's seed. When they invented them, these tools, they weren't very good. So men stood there staring at their own seed-" I ignored the sudden reddening of her face again, "-and it was just some blurry line. They were convinced that they could see babies swimming around. They were so sure of it and that women weren't needed at all that they planted it in dirt and waited for babies to grow."

"What!" Eowyn was laughing, her face red, but it seemed to have relaxed her somewhat. "No babies grew, of course."

"Well, of course." I laughed too and grasped her hand. "Then the tools got better and they could see what it really looked like. It did not have a baby swimming around. Anyway, it's not going to be that hard for you two. You and Faramir have already kissed, haven't you?"

"Yes." She couldn't even look me in the eye suddenly. And this was just for kissing!

"Cuddled?" Oh good god. This just made her redder. I suddenly felt like I was sitting a bit too close to her, she seemed completely stiff all of a sudden, looking less like a late twenty-something woman and more like a teenager who was caught in the back of a car with a _boy_. "What _have_ you done?" When Eowyn hesitated, eyes still distant, I added quickly, "Hey, Eowyn, I'm not going to judge you. There's nothing wrong with this stuff. It's natural."

"We have spent many hours, embracing, kissing, and ..." She was still having trouble talking. It almost looked like she regretted asking at all. "And there has been some touching."

"He's touched you?" I wanted to laugh and apologise for asking all at once. Oh man. "Where?" I wished I had a doll. She could show me where he'd touched her. Maybe I had to start from the start. Oh man. How did people do this?

"My breasts and down there."

"Just say it, Eowyn, _vagina_." Was that what they were called here? When she flinched I wanted to groan and roll my eyes. Still, I had to admit, the word kind of made ME want to cringe. Focus, I had to focus. This was about Eowyn. "Come on, woman, we're both women here. We both have them. When he touches it, how do you feel?"

"Warmer. I did feel some pleasure at his touch." She responded quietly. Eowyn gazed at her hands. "And it gave him pleasure."

"I bet it did." The words slipped out before I could stop it.

"His finger hurt though. It broke the moment. I am …not afraid of much." I believed that. I really did. Eowyn added, "But to be naked, to be so vulnerable, I am not sure how to do it."

"You don't have to just lie there. Kiss him back. The first time hurts, a little bit, but after that it feels good." I wished I had some training. "There's ways he can pleasure you back. And that's what he's supposed to do."

"Is that what you and Legolas do?" Eowyn was quick to add, "Sorry, if-"

"Yeah. I mean, we both feel pleasure, and it's more than that. I trust him. He can be rough with me because I know he'd stop if I told him to. The bites, they hurt a little, but … I don't even notice in the moment. Only after." Now it was _my_ turn to go red.

"I must admit, I never thought of it as being pleasurable for both." Eowyn responded. She added, "It would explain much."

"Like?"

"Like why a woman would allow a man back into her bed at all if he hurts her!" Oh yeah. There it was. Ice Maiden.

"Well, it's not like men are born knowing how to do it. I think it takes some practice. Get to know each other. But don't worry. It really will be fine. As long as he touches you, and kisses you, and makes you feel really good first, you'll barely notice it." I reached out to touch her hand. Eowyn actually flinched. "I mean it. I barely noticed it hurt until later. Our bodies, women's bodies I mean, they have ways to prepare for it too. We get wet."

The moment was really awkward now for me. But for Eowyn, it suddenly seemed to click, and her head swung to mine. "Was that what my body was doing? I did not understand... it was strange."

Oh bloody hell. Why the hell hadn't someone talked to the poor woman? "That's normal. That's how our bodies get ready. It makes the whole thing easier and it's what happens before our own bodies feel pleasure. You know men ..." God, what was the word... "They climax?"

"Yes. As I said, I know what men release, for I have seen animals mate." Eowyn responded. She shifted uncomfortably. "It seems messy."

"Yes, well, we do too. It helps make it easier for their seed to get to the egg." I wasn't sure where I'd heard that but it sounded right. "We can without feeling pleasure too, but when you feel pleasure, your body tries harder. It is a bit messy. But fun."

Eowyn sighed. She shut her eyes. " Faramir would marry me tonight, if he could, at the feast. He has asked me to become his wife in name and body."

"But he wouldn't force you to do anything. You don't have to be ready this fast." Wow. So he'd propose to her officially. No wonder why Eowyn had asked me about sex. The man hadn't even given her a few weeks to get used to the idea. I wondered... he might seem calmer than Boromir but maybe they both struggled sometimes with impulses? Who knew.

"You say that, if we do not rush, that if he touches and kisses me, that I will feel less pain?"

How crazy. Eowyn, the shield-maiden of Rohan, afraid of pain. I supposed I understood. It was pretty intimate, pretty close, letting someone in so close. Trusting them. I nodded and she squared her shoulders as if she was heading into battle.

"Then I will marry him tonight." She reached out to grasp my hand, tight, holding onto it. Eowyn actually leaned against my side, adding softer, "I may come to you in the morning."

"I'll be here. We're women. You can tell me anything. I won't judge you."

"And you, with me. Thank you. It's times like these I wish... that I miss my own mother." Eowyn breathed out slowly.

I missed mine too. The realisation made me want to cry suddenly, my eyes damp, because only now did it hit me. I didn't have a mum any more either. I hadn't had a chance to tell Legolas yet. "My mother's dead too."

"You remember something?"

"My father." The words came out on their own, words that I tried to disconnect from, words that almost didn't sound like mine. "My father did it. I wasn't living there then. He was sent to prison for it. I remembered a lot."

"Wenduin..." Eowyn grasped me tighter, holding me hard, and suddenly the tables had turned. She was the older wiser one, I was the younger, and this position did feel a hell of a lot more comfortable. "What did you remember?"

I wished Legolas was there. No sooner had I wished it, though, than I saw him. Legolas was on the balcony. I wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, wasn't sure if he'd ever left to begin with, but for a brief second his and my eyes met before he faded back into the darkness. The Elf was still connected to me.

Slowly, I told her, knowing that Legolas was hearing it as well, feeling somehow that he was comforting me even from several metres away. I swore I felt his reaction, his anger, the anger he'd felt earlier when he'd found Boromir in the room. It overshadowed his worry.

"You held all this?"

"I just forgot it. Now I'm not even sure if it's real. You, everyone, I feel like … like I made it up. This perfect life." Though, after the dream we'd just had, perfect was probably the wrong way to describe it.

"I would find you. In either world." Legolas said quietly. There was something odd in his voice. I knew him well enough to know that. We'd have to talk about it- what I'd told Eowyn and Legolas about my father- because he was not taking THIS news well. I supposed I couldn't blame him there. Legoals stepped out, slowly, and crossed the room. "Boromir and I have returned with the horses."

Eowyn must have been getting used to the Elf thing. She barely seemed surprised at all to see Legolas appear all over again. I, on the other hand, was surprised they'd both brought horses. With the anger in Legolas face earlier, how the hell had he managed to be around Boromir for one second, led alone a walk?

"Just now?" Eowyn stood up slowly, careful of my leg, but bent down to kiss my forehead. "You are with friends. Whatever you fear, share it, for it will be less of a burden. I will get Borom-"

"No need. I'm here." Boromir strode in almost on cue.

Had Boromir heard too? I wasn't sure. I doubted it, he looked pretty relaxed right now, he was pushing the door open. "The feast will start any minute. Come on, women."

"I will be with Wenduin. You and Boromir should go ahead." Legolas reached to grasp my hand, holding it gently, waiting until Eowyn agreed. It took her a while.

Slowly, we headed downstairs, watching as Eowyn and Boromir moved ahead up the street. Legolas helped me up and moved to sit beside me. He barely touched the reins before the horse pulling the cart moved. I swore I saw him whisper something.

"What did we dream?"

"A future." Legolas said quietly. He reached out to grasp my hand hard. "I think. I do not know. I am confused."

"So am I." A future. He said it so clearly, so openly, didn't even bother to hide it from me. So... "What are we going to do if that's a future? How did I get stabbed? Or was it like those dreams you have?"

"I do not remember. I woke and you were bleeding. Boromir was behind you. It was a strange dream. Perhaps nothing more than another ...fear. I will speak to Gandalf of it later." Legolas was confused too? Bad sign.

"Boromir?" How could I forget that part? "You were asleep. I don't know. One second it was all cute and then ...well, ow."

"It is not something we may chance right now." Legolas shut his eyes. He was trying to hide all the fear he'd gathered, we were getting too close to other people, but for once he was struggling. I'd never seem him struggle with control so much. But he managed as we came up onto the flat strip.

Careful of my leg, Legolas helped me down, and I followed him into the Great Hall of Minas Tirith with my walking stick. It was surprisingly difficult to walk with one while in a long dress- it took some practice.

He led me into the feast, the smile returning as Gimli came to greet us, but I suspected Gimli knew him well enough by now to know something was up. Probably everyone from the Fellowship knew from my face, I wasn't good at hiding it like Legolas and was sure it was all over my face right now, so I was relieved when Pippin came to escort me to my place in the feast without asking about my face.

I'd only just sat down when Boromir entered. And when he entered, he _entered_, arms open, big cocky grin back, with almost everyone's eyes going to him. Men were drawn to him straight off, shaking his hand or some male bonding thing, laughter, like he'd just turned on the charismatic aura all over again. And, although clearly he'd been dressed like this before, only now did I notice that he was in his best stuff. Hair washed.

It only occurred to me that I'd been sucked in by it too. He caught my eyes, mid-grin, and almost stumbled over his own foot. Luckily one of his 'bros' was there with booze. Boromir barely lost a step as he grasped it and went back to it.

Legolas was close too, I realised, he hadn't come sat down.

"Do you like apples?" Pippin asked me from beside me.

"Apples? Yeah."

"Here." Half an apple was put onto my plate. I looked at Pippin and saw he was really staring at me. Really hard. "Are you all right, Wendy?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You haven't talked to anyone since we got back. Well, except for Legolas. Don't you want to know what happened?"

I blinked and realised he was right. Here I was getting caught up in Legolas Boromir dramas when everyone else was here. Aragorn, who I still hadn't talked to yet, and Merry, Sam was back and hadn't touched anything on the table, Gimli already onto his third mug of ale. Faramir and Eomer in the corner, right at the far end of the hall, in deep discussion. "Oh, yeah. Of course I do. Sorry. Sorry. I was distracted. What happened? I haven't really spoken to you since you and Gandalf rode off!"

"I know you were." He nodded with such a serious face that I wanted to laugh. "It's okay. Gandalf told me you were pregnant. _Well_." And Pippin launched into it without any sign of being insulted or annoyed. Clearly being pregnant was a great excuse for 'distracted'. He spoke fast, face flushed with excitement, and I had to admit I was hooked by his story. Minas Tirith. Pippin becoming a guard of the Citadel. Climbing all that way which took him all day and half the night, just to get up there to light the beacon, and hours just to get back down. The battle. Faramir. I didn't hear a single thing different, a single change, and was kind of relieved by that.

Merry joined in when they got to the part about leaving Minas Tirith, the two of them cheerfully telling me about the great battle. Aragorn rose, coming to sit beside me as he slid a chair over, so that we formed a little circle.

"Did they tell you who were the first to charge into an impossible battle?" He asked, amused, as he leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms.

"You were first, Strider." Merry protested.

"And then you both charged after me. The smallest warriors, the first to follow, the first to ignore their fear." Aragorn clasped Merry on the shoulder. "I did not expect such bravery from either of you."

"We know. Goes to show, doesn't it?" Pippin grinned at me and Aragorn.

Food came out and Aragorn quickly returned to his place, meeting my eyes a moment, leaving me hungry and wondering if this was a 'let's talk later' signal or not. He hadn't been that sold on the 'Legolas romance' thing earlier. Had this changed with the pregnancy? Or was it just going to make him even more determined?

Luckily, the feast was not particularly difficult or riddled with customs. Not tonight. The soldiers, every last one that'd returned, were much too exhausted to give a damn about 'right this' or 'right that'. Language was natural, people laughed and behaved as they'd normally behave, and the food was much more rushed. I couldn't help it- I was comfortable enough here. People ate, laughed, drank, danced, and the later the night got on, dancing and drinking started to replace eating. Tired bodies, both men and women, made things get sillier a bit faster.

I had half-expected to see Faramir and Eowyn married tonight. Instead, their betrothal was announced, and I wondered if Eomer had insisted on ...some kind of traditional marriage. Not a hasty one in the middle of a fast. It wouldn't have surprised me too much. After all- it was his sister and he probably wasn't keen on the idea of her jumping into bed with Faramir.

One by one, the Fellowship vanished from the table in the arms of women, all traces of ceremony vanishing with the sheer joy of being alive. Sam was the only one who remained, barely having eaten, his mind probably on Frodo with his eyes darting to Gandalf every few minutes. Gandalf, Legolas and I didn't dance. Legolas was around, I knew that much, but not within sight. Gandalf vanished for a few minutes too.

Faramir offered to escort me home. It was a surprising choice, at least at first, but I saw Eowyn was already in the little cart. I went inside ahead of them, slowly, and crawled back into the cold sheets. I was too tired be amused when I heard two pairs of feet coming up the stairs. Instead I stripped off as much as I could, shut my eyes and curled up to sleep properly.

It was late when I was woken by the sound of my door opening and shutting. Dark. A body shuffling, uncertain, arms out as they headed for my bed. It wasn't Legolas. The smell of alcohol and the soft oath as the man crashed into my wall made it pretty clear who it was.

I slid out of bed in the dark room, grasped my walking stick and headed for the window. Tugging the curtains open let in the light of the moon and Boromir twisted around to stare at me.

"We need to talk." He stepped towards me, unsteady, his feet not quite able to walk in a straight line. "Wendy. Now."

"Not now. Get out. Before I call Eowyn."

"She is with my brother. At our quarters. I am ordered to stay away. Wendy." Boromir grasped my arm tight, bending over me, face shadowed in the dark of the room. I waited for whatever the hell it was he wanted to say.

He shoved me against the wall, not too gentle, the walking stick lost in the unexpected motion. Lips crashed against mine, unshaven cheeks prickling me, the taste of alcohol filling my mouth as he plunged his tongue into my mouth without flooding through my face as Boromir pressed up against me with unhidden need. Like in Moria, the same feeling, the same crazy uncontrolled …

I shoved at him as his hands dragged my legs around his waist, not impressed or amused, gasping as hips ground against mine. The underdress did not hide much, not when he pressed that hard, and fear rose in me. The ring was destroyed. What the hell was going on?

"Let me ...go!" I struggled, shoving at him, inhaling sharply again as his hips grabbed me.

"Stay with me. Here. In this city." Boromir was trying to lift my dress. I nearly poked his eyes out, pushing at him, and this pain seemed to get him to suddenly step back and drop me.

"No! Stop it! This isn't funny, Boromir! You know where I'm going." Anger was still squashed by fear, sort of, and I tried to bend to grasp for my walking stick in the dark.

"These are your people!" Boromir grasped my arm, frustration all over his face, dragging me up once more as he bent over me. "You are accepted here. Loved! Trusted! Do you think the Elves will welcome you? Never do they trust any not of their own kin. You would spend your life an outsider, alone, aging as they watch on and-"

"Don't you think I know that?" I hissed. It hurt. Fuck. He was telling the truth and it hurt to admit.

"Would your Elf ask you to endure that loneliness? How can he love you if he asks you to spend your days in misery?" Boromir squeezed his eyes shut hard, leaning against me, breathing hard. His hand was shaking. "How can I let you do this?"

"It's not your choice." I stared down, past him, leaning against the wall behind me. Somehow my own breathing was fast, I struggled to keep it even, my chest hurting. "I already decided."

"He brings you back for the child, Wenduin. A child that will age so slowly, you will never see it grow up, an Elf. Look at me!" Boromir grasped my face, releasing my arm to do so, cupping it with amazing tenderness given how upset and drunk he was. He grabbed my other hand with his, shoving it against his face, pressing my fingers into it. "Look at us. You and I will age together. Our children will grow up before us and have their own. You will have grandchildren, Wenduin, and friends. Lady Eowyn will be here. Her children will play with yours. I will be your husband."

My heart was breaking. I couldn't stop it, or keep these words out, I stared up at Boromir and knew he was seeing everything. My child wouldn't grow up before I died. How long did it take an Elf child, even a Half-Elf, to age? Boromir had lines. He had wrinkles. The remains of a pimple on his neck, disgusting, and really human. A scar over one of his eyebrows that must have been from some would ages ago. He had a face that wasn't like a statue. It was strange how aging made him beautiful.

I shoved him away with this thought, this terrible shattering thought, and grasped my walking stick hard to hit him hard. I didn't need to- Boromir was backing off. It was now, as he was backing off, that I suddenly felt how afraid I felt. The moments in Mordor and the river, however fake it was, kept flashing across my head.

Only in reality it was so different. Boromir, however angry, however upset, was clearly not in any state or mood to do anything to me. He was harmless, at least physically, but he was killing me emotionally.

Boromir flopped down on the ground, head in hands, devastation openly showing now that he was too drunk to hide it. The man should have been happy. Why couldn't he be happy?

"I can't ...do that." The words broke my heart too. I stared at Boromir, who refused to look up, his shoulders shaking somewhat. I wanted to kick him, swear, and cry, because this wasn't fair. "You know that. Boromir, for fuck's sake, just stop it! How the hell can we be happy if you keep ..."

The door burst open, light blinding both of us, Aragorn's eyes going from mine to him. Not just Aragorn. Pippin as well.

"Everything all right?" Aragorn straightened.

"Yeah." With a soft sigh I sat down on the ground as well. My leg KILLED. Pippin slid a cloak over my shoulders. What if Boromir was right? "He's just drunk. What are you two doing here?"

"Boromir told us he'd be coming here."

My head swung up in surprise at Aragorn's response. He had knelt beside Boromir, gently helping the big idiotic man to his feet, surprisingly tender. "Then he got lost, and us with him."

"I didn't want to … hurt her." Boromir muttered. So... he was afraid of what he'd do as well? His face was hidden from me now by the hair. Slowly he was heading for the doors. "But she needed to know the truth. About Elves. It's all there. Minas Tirith records of Elves... it's all there. I want to take her. Show her." Shoving off Aragorn, Boromir added, "I can walk."

He squared his shoulders, gritted his teeth, and walked right into the wall beside the door. Aragorn was quick to grab him before he fell backwards.

"Not now, Boromir..." Aragorn met my eyes, sighing quietly, reaching up to rub his forehead as if he had a headache. He was a bit unsteady too, I noticed, a bit drunk himself. It wasn't that surprising. "Do you mind if he sleeps down there? I would, naturally, remain here."

"Merry and I were already going to sleep near Sam." Pippin spoke up from beside me.

"Without asking?" Aragorn sighed, reaching for his head once again.

"It's _Wenduin_." Pippin wrapped an arm over my shoulder and leaned against me. "And who keeps Boromir from coming up here?"

"Legolas, when he and Gandalf return." Aragorn responded. He didn't make a move to remove Pippin though. He lifted one of Boromir's arms over his shoulder and slowly headed out of the room. "Come on, Pippin."

"Are you all right?" Pippin hesitated. He reached out to touch my shoulder once more.

"Yeah." I almost wished Aragorn hadn't left. My mind was starting to repeat what Boromir had said like a broken record. Elf children didn't grow fast. I wouldn't even see it as an adult. Blah, blah, blah. Pippin blinked, frowning, clearly not convinced. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just got to get to my feet."

"Here. Let me help you."

Slowly, I rose, with Pippin's help. He was surprisingly steady on his feet.

"You didn't drink?"

"It's Merry's turn tonight. I'll go get him in a minute." Pippin slowly helped me towards the bed, his eyes off me as I flopped down. He actually tucked me in, crawling on the bed, and sat down beside me. "Do you need something? Water?"

"Pip,I'm okay." I insisted. No. I wasn't. It had been a hell of a few hours. That 'dream'. Boromir's rantings. "Legolas was with Gandalf?"

"They went to Frodo. I think he was hoping Legolas could help wake Frodo." Pippin didn't move, even though I was lying down now, clearly determined to wait until he was sure I was okay. "Do you want him?"

"Why are you fussing over me?"

"Well, you're pregnant."

His answer made me want to groan. I'd known for ten days. Ten days! It wasn't like I was dying of cancer. I smiled weakly. "I know. So I'm going to sleep. Go get Merry. He can sleep here. But when Eowyn returns, don't say anything."

"I think she has quarters in the hall tonight. Aragorn offered them to her when she was too tired to leave." Pippin slid back, slowly. "Goodnight, Wendy."

"Night."

I exhaled with relief when he had left me alone. I slid up and hobbled across the room to lock the door before Boromir decided he wanted to talk again, just in case, and then returned to my bed and crawled back inside. If Legolas wanted in then he could do his magic elf jump thing.

Slowly I slid back into bed. This was a careful process- bum first, keep injured leg lifted until the last second, but once it was done I sat there and stared out the window into the dark night and to the mountains beyond. The volcano had not stopped erupting since Frodo had blown it up. The winds kept soot and ash from us, luckily, but it must have been making a huge mess on the other side of the volcano. Would that melted ring be spread all Mordor now? Would it now become a battle for the stone of Middle Earth?

Yeah. I was pretending to be interested in a stupid volcano instead of facing the really BIG problem. But as soon as I accepted this, the big questions started to bash me around the head, only adding to the weight the pregnancy was starting to heap in my stomach. Weight! I hadn't even started to SHOW yet and I was already starting to feel strung out and trapped. This was no longer good news. This wasn't even exciting news.

How long did Elf children stay children?

Boromir had more or less destroyed any chance I'd had at being happy about the baby. I wanted to be angry with him. I really did. But … I was angry at everything right now. What if he was wrong? Maybe he was. But what if he was right? What if Legolas … well, lied was the wrong word. Much too strong a word. But what if Legolas hadn't mentioned this?

Legolas was always so convinced I wasn't completely mortal. Always. Maybe it hadn't even crossed his mind.

And anyway, how was I so sure Boromir was telling the truth? How the hell would he know?

My chest hurt. I stared into the darkness of the room a very long time, chest tight, throat swollen, like some kind of emotion had gotten stuck there and couldn't get out. This was just getting worse. At least we'd had one GOAL during the Fellowship. Ring. Volcano. Stay alive. What was our goal now? Get Aragorn crowned. Married. Have baby.

Did an Elf's pregnancy draw out like an elf's life? Was this going to take me longer? Or was it shorter? Safer? More dangerous? Was it any different? Why the hell hadn't we talked about this? Oh yeah, because Legolas was running off to take on ten thousand Orc in Mordor and I'd been beaten up badly enough to stay in bed a week.

It was a long time before I felt really tired enough to lie down. When I did, it was slow, and I curled up against the cold sheets again. Suddenly, I didn't feel so comfortable or cosy, and the weight of new responsibilities was starting to tie me down.


	21. Lovers

I was woken by the feeling of lips against mine, gentle, a hand stroking my face, long hair tickling my skin. No need to know who it was. I sighed, warmth flooding my chest as I reached up to grasp Legolas' arm, feeling nothing more than contentment. Love. Warm.

"Can I join you?" He kissed my lips again, then my cheek, fingers running across my scalp as he drew hair away from my face. Warmth flooded my hips, desire not hampered by logic or wakefulness, just a familiar sense of trust and love. Legolas smelt amazing. I inhaled slowly, nodding, and felt the bed sag as I half slipped back into sleep. Skin brushed against mine, a knee running up the back of my leg and sliding the night gown up, lips finding the back of my shoulder as the fabric was pushed aside.

I missed him. Missed him. I wanted to tell him but if I did I'd wake up. Better he get in and we go to sleep again.

Legolas slid in beside me under the blankets, very careful of my leg, and this time I felt more skin against mine. Naked. My Elf was naked. His chest pressed against my side, arm crossing over me, a slow exhale of air tickling my bare shoulder. "Something happened?"

"Shh, don't ruin it." I muttered. Too late though. Now that he'd asked I couldn't keep trying to ignore the truth in sleep. Boromir. Children. Broken hearts. Urgh. No. Bad choice. Naked Legolas. Butterflies. Elves. Stuff like that.

Legolas didn't respond. He lay beside me, eyes on me, forehead against the side of my head. But he wasn't relaxed either. His body was actually pretty tense, muscles all hard against me, and he clearly was not going to sleep anytime soon. Was he waiting for me to talk? Probably.

"You want to know what happened last night."

A nod.

"Boromir came in here drunk."

Legolas shifted up pretty fast. He didn't loose it like he had last night, he was clearly more composed when he was fully awake, but I grabbed his arm just in case he was thinking of getting up and heading for the door. His eyes locked in mine. "And?"

"He..." I squeezed my eyes shut, sighing, not really knowing where to begin. How to begin. "I don't know. He was upset. He thought I'd fit in better with people here and that I'd be lonely there and ...well, he wanted me to stay here. Talked about children. Our baby. That kind of thing. Aragorn dragged him out though. Nothing happened."

"He wanted you to stay here with him." I nodded. Legolas sighed and ran his hands up and down my arms slowly. "Is this why you locked the door?"

"Yeah. Keep drunk idiots out. I knew you'd climb up."

Legolas smiled somewhat and shook his head. "The door was not closed. Locked, yes, but there was this in the way of the door." He held up a glove. One of Boromir's gloves? Maybe. Maybe Aragorn or someone had dropped it. I groaned. How could I have missed that? Oh well. He was probably hog tied in the kitchen anyway. "Aragorn would not let Boromir wake you again."

"Was he telling the truth?"

"Truth?"

"That I wouldn't live to see this baby grow up. That Elves grow up slower than humans?"

Legolas leaned up higher at that. The sound of movement outside my door, hobbit-sized movement, distracted us both somewhat, and he didn't answer until whoever it'd been had gone again. " I … there are always strange fates for those of us who choose to love a different kin."

This was not a helpful answer. And it wasn't really an answer for me. I sat up slowly, careful, and stared down at Legolas. "Legolas, how long does it take for an Elf child to grow?"

"A child of my kin will take fifty of men's years to reach the body of a young man or woman. Another fifty they will age before their body stops growing." Legolas sat up slowly as well and stared at me. I stared back. He was exactly as he'd been when he'd stopped aging at one hundred. The Elf looked so young. The question of HIS age was overshadowed by this really bad news.

"So by the time my child's grown up, I'll be..." Elderly. Old. Already planning my funeral cover.

"Still alive."

That was easy for him to say. Yes, I'd be alive, but would Legolas even like me then? When I was grey and aged? What about him? Did this mean he'd stay immortal? Or would he die when I did? Some part of me didn't want him to.

"Who told Boromir this? None should know this. The life of our children is a guarded secret" Legolas shifted closer, grasping my hands and sliding his into them, his smooth fingers tracing over mine.

"I don't know, he was blabbering about all kinds of things, how he should father my children and-" I hesitated. I probably shouldn't have mentioned that part. Legolas' mood shifted pretty fast, suddenly, and he just about jumped off the bed after a two second pause. "-nothing like that, Elf, get back here! All he did was kiss me." I yanked him back down. "He was drunk and he told me this. Then he proposed. But relax."

"To a woman already married?" Somehow 'father my children' had tipped Legolas' calm mood over a little. Legolas actually clenched his fists. It was kind of amazing to see how much of his emotions he was showing in front of me these days, how much he went from 'distant calm Elf in the corner' to 'real actual Elf with emotions'. I had to admit though. If some Middle Earth skank had thrown herself onto Legolas and said 'Give me a baby' I probably would have lost it too. "Tis not something he should know anyway."

This was the least of my worries. Legolas' anger towards Boromir was, somehow, not even interesting right now. I stared at my stomach as I slowly crossed one leg under the sheets. Fifty years.

"How long does a child of man to age?" Legolas seemed to be getting back on track too. But this question? I was not expecting it.

"Seriously?"

"I have not left Mirkwood since I was born. There are many things I do not ...yet know."

"Twenty years." I muttered. Twenty long years. Or at least I used to think so.

"Such a short time?"

"Yep." I wanted to roll my eyes. "So a baby Elf is a baby-"

"-They will begin to walk after their fourth month of life. After a year our son will already be talking with us, walking beside us, and singing." Legolas

Woah. So... he wouldn't be a baby for years. That was much faster than a human child. I blinked at Legolas. Magic Elf babies. Springing up as fast as they could. Did that mean they spent most of their time as children? Legolas answered me though, before I could even ask. "They do not remain as a baby long. An Elf child will only slow when they have their first tooth at the age of three."

"They don't teethe before that?"

"Teethe? Tooth. No." Legolas had to actually say the word to know what I was on about. "No. The tooth of a Elf child comes close to their third year of existence. From there, they will slow. The minds of our children age much faster than their bodies. But the body of a Half-Elf... I cannot tell you. I can tell you that you need not fear never knowing your son. He may grow in body slow, as a tree does, but his mind will age much faster."

"Lord Elrond could." I muttered. Legolas nodded, sliding closer, grasping me and pulling me into his lap. I breathed out, tense, kind of strung out all over again. Glancing at him, I hesitated, some of my tension fading. No. It was okay. I could handle a baby talking and walking early, handle one that didn't have teeth for some years, and ...well, who ever planned for grandchildren anyway? "Leggy?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you." The words were hard to say, somehow, as if I was saying them again for the first time. But it was true. All this crap, this baby, the problems, and I still felt it.

Legolas smiled, a warm sun-filled smile that made those three words completely worth it, and kissed me with sudden enthusiasm. His anger and tension faded away. "And you, my love. I love you as well. Do not fear the birth of this child. The fate of his life is to be his alone. We would not be gifted with a life were we not able to live with the choice."

"We wouldn't be gifted with him." That was kind of a good way to put it. I kind of hoped I didn't end up being one of those moms though that screeched something like 'I better gift wrap you and send you back!' when the kid ...was drawing on the tree house walls or something. "Who sent him?"

Legolas told me of the Valar, his fingers tracing along my back, the two of us leaning against each other. More often than not he'd break into Elvish, either for lack of words or out of habit, but I didn't mind so much. I understood it somewhat. They were spirits, real living beings, who had created Elves to begin with. Kings and Queens. More names than I could memorise. And they'd been here once, walked here, created and changed the land. Not just Elves either, but dwarves, and all kinds of species.

Again it sounded kind of like 'aliens messing with a planet'... but I'd called Legolas an alien once. Maybe all Elves weren't from this earth. Maybe no one here was actually native to this planet. What if it wasn't even Earth? Aliens had just thrown down all these different species? What if Sauron had been an alien? What a mind blowing thought. Middle Earth had been populated by alien species?! Wow.

"I do not know how our lives will go. Not anymore. But … I do not fear, so long as you do not."

"I'm okay." I was now. The confusion and hurt was gone again now. I was still a bit worried but... I didn't know. Legolas was here. I was fine. It was that simple. "I really am. There aren't many elves and humans who've done this, are there? Leggy, how is this really going to be taken? When we get to your home?" In other words, when the hell was I going to get some distance from Boromir. I still cared for the big oaf. But I needed to get away from him for a while.

"There are only two." Legolas responded. "Three, soon, for I do not see the Lady Arwen giving up on her heart any easier than I could. Others, there may have once been but … they are not spoken of an are forgotten." He hesitated. "It may be some time before we can leave Minas Tirith."

"Why?" I moved so I leaned against his chest. This seemed to suit him fine- Legolas re-wrapped his arms around me the second he got a chance to. "Aren't there records and things?"

"The Elves of Mirkwood do not read and write. History is passed through song. " Before I could comprehend this bombshell, Legolas went on, "When a man dies, they leave this world to places unknown to Elves. When an Elf dies we ...know where we go. It is seen as a fate that ends only in separation." He must have realised he was finally getting realistic with this thing when I tensed, Legolas shifted suddenly, and slowly kissed the back of my neck. "But I will find you in any world."

It was the second time he'd said that. I believed it too. I opened my mouth to ask more about Elf things but Legolas cut me off with a great topic ender, "You spoke of your father last night. Did you remember this while we were in battle?"

"Yeah." I smiled weakly at his obvious change in topic. Let it go. What use was there right now in stressing? I'd gotten some good news about the baby and I didn't need to overwhelm it with bad news about Elves. "Babbered to poor Faramir."

Legolas sighed and tightened his arms around me, tugging me hard against his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder. As if this'd protect me. As if it was enough. Or maybe it was how he dealt with it. "I do not understand. I … the heart of your father. I do not understand."

"Sorry."

"No. Do not be." I felt him press his lips against my shoulder, fingers tracing down my arms, his head shaking. "There are things men do that Elves find strange. So much anger, and rage, and hurt."

Yeah. The hurt summed up Boromir pretty good. Remembering him, and my father, this just put a dampener on the whole mood. At least no dreams of death last night. That was good. Right? I sighed and shut my eyes. "It is strange."

Early morning sunlight broke through the window at that point and bathed us both in light. It seemed to help break the mood somewhat. "So, your Elves sing."

"They do." Legolas smiled then, I felt his face move at the edge of my face, and turned to gaze up at him. The sunlight had warmed him, grey eyes lightening in the warm light, his hair somewhat messier than usual. Must have been from the climb up. "We sing."

"Good." I liked that part of it. No reading and writing? That was going to take some getting used to. "What else do you do?"

"Dance. Heal. Craft. There are many dangers, and so I protect the roads and the homes." Legolas shifted up to play with my arm as he talked, tracing the veins up and down my arm, his chin against my shoulder. "There is much to do. We live simpler but we are happy. We are used to men, their ways, for we trade with them often. You do not need to fear my home."

Happy. Simpler. I nodded, sliding my fingers around the back of his head to kiss the side of his neck, breathing out slowly. Okay. All right. Good news. They were happy and I wasn't going to spend my years as an old lady caring for an eternal five year old. "Sorry. I trust you. I do. It's just..."

"The unknown is always frightening. Do not be sorry." Legolas kissed me gently. We sat there for some time side by side, his arms around me, watching the sun rise slowly over the land.

I sighed, tension fading, feeling his hands reach around to hold my stomach. The three of us. There was this sudden awareness that there were three of us. How crazy was that? I could have almost sworn I could feel that boy on the bed with us. This was all I needed. Just ...him. Boromir's fear was so contagious that it kept bringing up my fears. Every single fucking time.

"How long would it take to get Aragorn crowned?" I asked softly.

"I do not know the customs of men for this." Legolas responded, his fingers touching my stomach slowly, digging in as if he was feeling for it. Feeling for the lump. "It would not be rushed. Lords , of both Elf and Man, will come. Dwarf Kings will come. It may be summer before his crowning takes place."

Summer? It was still spring so... it was some time away. To tell the truth, I'd always felt like it'd gone from 'Frodo destroying the ring' to 'happy ending with Aragorn all crowned and singing'. Instant transition. Nope, apparently not, apparently THAT part of the story wasn't close at all. I shouldn't really have been surprised.

"I will ask him. You wish to leave." Legolas clearly had read my mind about that. "As do I. I am worried for your heart. I leave you for two hours with Boromir and return to find you once again upset and afraid."

Yeah, that was pretty much it perfectly, and I had to admit my heart was kind of broken over the man. I didn't want him hurt. I'd saved his life, changed fate or something, and this was supposed to be the part where he lived happily ever after with some woman he liked. Or man. I didn't mind in the slightest if Boromir went for a man. The big oaf probably could do with some rough fun. Or someone physically his size to ...shove him back. Last night had shown how little control he had. Someone had to be able to shove him back.

"It's not his fault."

"You say that every time, my love."

I did, didn't I? I sighed and shut my eyes, twisting so that I could bury my face in Legolas' chest, deciding it was much more fun to concentrate on him than on the drunk idiot from last night. "What am I supposed to do? Leggy?"

"There is nothing more you are expected to do. His life is his own now. Your gift to him was freedom. Let me see your leg now." Legolas slid my dress up, slowly, and his fingers traced over the shape of the swollen skin. "It is better."

"Just needed rest. Pippin said you were helping with Frodo." Again he was teasing me, I was sure of it, because his fingers kept tickling the back of my knee. The very sensitive back of my knee. Also... he was still naked.

"Then rest today. I do not know much healing but-" Legolas smiled somewhat. "But even I could tell he was not far from waking. Already he has started to talk in his sleep. Mithrandir does not leave his side, but for a few hours of rest, and there was little I could do. I did not need to do much. It will be a day, perhaps two, and he will be awake."

"You should tell Sam that."

"I spoke to Sam before I climbed up here. He has already taken breakfast." Legolas blinked, apparently remembering something, because he stood up and headed for the window. I watched him without shame, watched him stride completely nude across the room, his muscles lean and beautiful in the warmth of the sunshine. His hair caught the light and went almost silver. When he turned, it took me a few seconds to see that he had a plate in one hand, so distracted was I by everything else. "Your breakfast."

"Oh." Breakfast. Yes. That was what I'd been thinking about. I watched him walk back, doing my best to not look downward, but this was a loosing battle. I giggled as Legolas froze and shut my eyes. "Yes. Breakfast."

"Is there something else you desire?" He was laughing at me. Legolas knew what he was doing. He'd spent ages touching me, teasing me, and now he was showing off exactly what he had to … and oh god, it was moving. Yeah. He knew what he was doing.

"Me?" I laughed, Legolas back at the bed within two strides, feeling the bed sink as he knelt on it, letting him push me back slowly "Well..." I was cut off, sudden, as lips crushed on mine, eyes flying open to see the same hungry look on Legolas face. He dragged at my dress, only separating his kiss to get it off my head, but still so careful to not jostle or lean on my bad leg.

"Well?"

"Shh, there's hobbits downstairs." I hissed, when he made the bed groan, and Legolas laughed.

"Would you have me wait?"

I grabbed his head, dragging him back down and into me, and we made love, slow, as quiet as possible, laughing as we heard people coming up and down the stairs, and it was well into the day before Legolas was finished. It was the first chance since Lothlorien that we'd really gotten time alone like this. I was sure he kept having heart attacks everytime he bumped my bad leg, because I kept hissing in pain, and Legolas would freeze, but … somehow I managed to distract him from that.

Finally we got to breakfast, still twisted up in each other and the sheets, with the several plates between us. Washing was just as silly, I ended up splashing Legolas more than I washed, all while trying to keep balance with the walking stick.

Dressing was slower, more teasing, Legolas being confused as I tried to explain why I needed 'breast binding' – I wasn't a magic elf with magic perky breasts- and then his turn when I watched him try and pull on his leggings. Magic Elf my ass. All I had to do was tickle his ear and he'd twitch and nearly fall over. Funny how Elves were about their ears. One touch and he almost wanted to pounce again.

"Are all Elves this obsessed with sex!" I laughed, as he advanced on me, this wicked look in his eyes. I was sure I'd seen a similar expression on Legolas' face just before battle.

"With our lover?" Legolas got that 'hungry look', not that he'd really lost it, as he knocked me back on the bed, tugging my good leg up and my dress with it. Once again we made love, not even bothering to undress this time, and only after another 'quickie' did we really decide we should wash.

"With our lover?" He grinned. "Yes." Legolas jumped, knocking me onto my back on the bed, tugging my good leg up and my dress with it. Once again we made love, not even bothering to undress this time. We hadn't really finished so... why worry?

Finally we did manage to get dressed properly and go downstairs. It was hard to stop smiling, my face hurt, and Legolas seemed to struggle with putting on his Elf mask thing all over again.

The sight of Boromir downstairs, still passed out on a mat, with Pippin 'sitting guard' nearby did bring me out of my good mood somewhat. No one else was around. And, I noticed, no Eowyn yet.

"Where's Sam? Merry? Everyone?" I asked, when Pippin came inside, and naturally got the answer I was expecting.

"Frodo. Aragorn went to get some food to replace what went missing."

Uh huh. Almost seconds after he'd told me this Aragorn returned with several boxes worth of food on the back of a cart, Faramir and Eowyn walking along side. Eowyn? Pretty flushed looking. I grinned and met Legolas' eyes. He might not have known what I knew but he got the hint, a soft chuff of amusement as his eyes went from Faramir to Eowyn, before he turned away to bend over Boromir. I saw the quick movement of something.

Uh oh.

"What are you doing?"

"Tying him up." Legolas unwound a rope and started to tie him up, legs and arms, his face perfectly passive and calm. It was kind of scary how calm and relaxed he could look when I knew he was probably still pretty angry inside. "There. Where is Gimli?"

Gimli? Come to think of it, had I seen him since the feast?

"He's outside." Pippin pointed. "There's a place behind where he trains."

Legolas headed outside and I stared down at Boromir. The man kind of stank right now. I felt bad for him though. Pippin grasped my hand and asked quietly, "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." I was, to my surprise, even after all that 'breakfast'. I followed Pippin to the little wood fired stove. Aragorn, Faramir and Eowyn were carrying in supplies as Pippin and I ate, or tried to, but Eowyn was pretty quick to catch Pippin eating again.

"Are you eating again!"

"It's afternoon tea time. Hey!" Pippin grabbed for the plate Eowyn had grabbed, but Faramir was pretty fast to be right there between them, which amused me all the more. "I'm hungry."

Eowyn raised her eyes, sitting down beside me, and I swore I saw her wince. Oh yes. I could guess why. When she met my eyes, I almost laughed, and she covered her mouth to stop her own laugher

"Have a good sleep?" I asked, lightly, innocent. Faramir flinched, staring from myself to Eowyn, before he turned away. Oh. Was this embarrassing for him? Still he had this small smile on his face and when he met Eowyn's eyes, there was this incredible tenderness there. He slid the food to Eowyn instead.

"Yes, and you?" Eowyn accepted the plate of food from Faramir.

"After Boromir was dragged out, sure."

Faramir's eyes went to his brother and his smile faded. "I am sorry. He was not supposed to come here."

I noticed that he didn't say something like 'He's always like that when he's drunk. I also noticed that line between Faramir's eyebrows, this frowny line, as he stared at his brother.

"It's not your fault." I felt like it was my fault, actually, and guilt rose. Like nausea. Or was it nausea? Maybe it was. I did feel kind of sick to the stomach. I pushed the food away and decided I wasn't so hungry after all. "But is he going to sleep there all day?"

"No. He will come home. And if the soldiers see him, so be it, for he is not a child." Faramir was moving across to Boromir. He froze a few feet away, staring at something I couldn't see, and when I stood up I saw Gimli was now standing in front of Boromir. Arms crossed. "Master Dwarf-"

"The Elf and I are waiting for Boromir to wake. Leave him now, Lord Faramir, for we both have something to discuss when he is awake." Gimli nodded towards me over the table. "Wendy. Afternoon, lass."

"You two aren't going to hurt him, are you?" I muttered. Nice that they wanted a chat. I hoped it didn't result in anything too violent. "He's still my friend."

"No more than you would, I imagine, were it Legolas who he bothered." Gimli gazed up at Faramir, arms crossed, not budging. "We are all members of the Fellowship. Boromir deals with us."

"Yeah." A voice piped up. Pippin. Standing right beside Gimli and mirroring my slang. He was so small beside the dwarf, however few inches taller he was, that I hadn't even noticed him there."Yeah. We have to talk with him."

Okay. Good point. If he'd behaved like that towards Legolas last night I might have probably punched him. I sat down and started to pick at the food again, slowly, not keen on wasting it either. Aragorn walked in with a fairly sizeable pumpkin in his arms, lowering it onto the table in the corner, a little pale faced himself.

"You will come to live near me now." He informed me as he sat down with a soft groan. Aragorn reached up to rub his head.

"Near you?"

" Living in the Great Hall. The Fellowship can use this house now."

Oh, wow. Okay. "You sure? What about Eowyn?"

"Where else would the sister of Aragorn live?" Eowyn responded softly. "I am returning to Rohan with Eomer, with the body of my Uncle, and those who have survived. There we will wait until it is time to return. When we return, I marry, and Aragorn is crowned."

"Take Boromir." The words made everyone stare at me. I hadn't gone crazy. I added, quickly, "I mean it. Take him to Rohan with you."

"He must stay." Faramir shook his head.

"Why?"

"He is still the Captain of Gondor." Faramir sat down heavily and sighed. "Though I understand why you ask. He would only return days before you left for Mirkwood and it would save both of your hearts. Were that a maiden of Rohan capture his heart, as did one capture mine-" He grasped Eowyn's hand at that, "-I would feel less fear for him."

The sweet thing he'd said about Eowyn was overshadowed by the fear part. He felt it too? Greeeaaat. He'd know when to be worried about his brother. Eowyn squeezed Faramir's hand. "He will heal."

Guilt again. Major guilt. What was I supposed to do though? I remembered how I'd felt that morning with Legolas. Comfortable. Happy. Able to cope. I knew that I loved the Elf. But I cared about Boromir. But could I sacrifice Legolas? Even if I could, which I knew I couldn't, what would happen to Legolas if I did that? I wished_ I_ could ride to Rohan for a while. As I sat there stewing in my own guilt I was relieved to see Legolas return. He leaned against the wall beside the door, right where I could see him, and I breathed out and tried to relax.

"I do not think he will harm you."

"I know he won't. That's not really the problem." I replied and started to eat again. The problem was that he'd sit around for three months, letting those feelings eat at him, and he'd snap again. Which would just make him feel WORSE. I really wanted to get the hell out of here now. A holiday to Lothlorien. Surely we could come back for the whole crowning thing. Right?

Aragorn rose and, with a wince of his face, started to carry in food again. "This food must last for some time, Pippin. Tell Merry."

"Where is Merry?"

"Who knows." Aragorn was bringing in a sack of potatos. A literal fabric sack. He slowly tipped them into a basket and folded the sack back up, before heading back out again for whatever else he had gotten.

"With Sam." Pippin responded. He was inching over towards the vegetables. "Did we get apples?"

"Enough for one every three days."

"One!"

"There is going to be rations. The war has disturbed our farms." Faramir responded. "But most is grown during spring. If we are lucky it will not cause more than a shortage in winter harvest."

"Where is everything grown?" This question occurred to me only now. It was just fields out there. I hadn't seen a single farm or anything.

"The farms themselves are half a day's ride from here." Faramir nodded in some direction. East? North? Who knew. East, I realised, was probably Mordor so not east. "Lord Eomer has agreed to check them during his travel home."

"As have I." Eowyn added. She met my eyes and I smiled somewhat. Oh yeah. She might have been softened by Faramir but warrior woman was still in there. I hoped Faramir could cope with this. "We ride tomorrow at dawn. I would gladly see you there as well, Wenduin."

"Of course." And talk today, I hoped, I was seriously curious about how much she and Faramir had gotten up to. Alone. I met Legolas' eyes, more or less still picturing him as naked as he had been all morning, and grinned. To my surprise he actually mirrored it for a good three seconds, this warm affectionate smile with a hint of ...more lust? … which clearly he didn't mind being seen by anyone. Unusual for him. But how the hell could he still be up for sex? We'd been at it for hours. Distracted, I started to eat once more, the nausea in my stomach fading again. Maybe I had just been hungry. What was I thinking just now? Oh yeah. Eowyn and Faramir.

"So I'm-"

"As a princess of Gondor, you should remain within the Halls. As must I." Aragorn responded. It was not a pleasant reminder. I was flattered, sure, and I knew he'd had his reasons for telling everyone this, but ...seriously? We were still going to keep it up? "There is a chamber they started to prepare for you while you were in the House of Healing but it has not seen use for many years. Only now is it ready."

_Princess of Gondor_. Some women probably found this title really tempting. I wasn't quite used to the idea of Legolas being a 'Prince', personally. This explained why they were so keen in offering me all those pretty fabrics.

"When you are ready to come, I'll show you. Your things will be moved up. You will still be free to move between here and there. I have already made it clear that you would spend the day with the Fellowships."

"Yeah." I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I supposed 'princess' had all kinds of jobs. Like sewing. Or singing. Or something.

My eyes went to Boromir once again, still asleep, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to stay near him right now. Maybe later. As much as I liked to handle my own battles, which I really did, some part of me was glad Legolas and Gimli had decided to 'talk' with him.

"Okay. I'm ready to see it when you do."

"Give me a moment. My head-" Aragorn was still looking kind of green.

"Have you drunk much water?" I asked automatically.

"No, for I will vomit more."

"No, you have to drink water. Lots of it. It gets rid of the alcohol faster." As soon as I'd said this Eowyn had risen and was already getting Aragorn water. Aragorn did not look convinced as the water was put down but with me and Eowyn staring at him, he sighed and began to slowly drink, his face looking greener still. I added quickly, "Just drink it slowly. But drink lots."

Aragorn raised his eyes, shrugged, and drank. "Give me time, then. I will walk with you soon."

Slowly. I heard Boromir grunt in his sleep and decided I'd head out anyway. Standing, I grasped my walking stick and headed out into the sunshine, hearing … or rather... sensing Legolas follow.

He didn't ask if I was okay. The morning's giggles were sort of gone now. Legolas stood beside me against the edge of the wall, the two of us gazing out across the plains, our arms brushing and the wind whipping both our hair. He probably knew better than anyone how frustrated I was right now with Boromir.

"How far ride is Mirkwood?"

"Too far to return when we need to." A finger looped through mine, Legolas shifting closer, adding softer, "But Gimli and I will watch him."

"He was drunk."

"And before, it was the ring."

"Well, it was."

"And next time, will it be because he is tired?"

I growled in frustration, free hand clenching on the walking stick, wanting to smack Legolas. He was right though. It'd already gotten bad enough. Last night was harmless, clearly Boromir had been afraid himself of what he'd do if he invited Aragorn along, but that didn't mean it could keep happening. "I know."

"I cannot protect you from him."

"Leggy, I _know_." I didn't feel afraid of Boromir anyway. I didn't need protecting. I needed to kick him. Legolas shifted, leaning closer, fingers entwining with mine. I sighed and leaned against him. Okay. Relax. Not his fault. "So Mirkwood's too far. How about a trip to Lothlorien?"

He smiled again, relaxed, and shook his head. "No, and not Rivendell either, though I would gladly see it once more. The place I found you."

Oh yeah. Wow. It seemed like ages ago now. I sighed softly and shut my eyes. There'd been a kid. Should I have... been a guardian or something ? Not while I did this. They'd taken good care of Aragorn. Surely they could handle one more human kid for a few more months. Or longer. What was going to happen with her? I'd have to ask Lord Elrond if I saw him again.

Aragorn's voice cut into my thoughts. "All right, let us walk."

"I will remain here and await Boromir."

I left Legolas to ...whatever he'd planned for Boromir … and followed Aragorn up the sloping road. We both walked slow- him with his hangover, and me with my bad leg. Interesting pair. I wasn't sure where they came from but guards joined us, escorting us all the way up, which made for a strange walk. The future King and the Princess. Oh man. That was going to make life interesting until I left.

I found myself reaching up and touching the silver-green necklace Legolas had given me. It may have been weird, having to be some kind of title for this place, but I'd have to take a role like it for Mirkwood. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe a human woman would barely rank above the ...chamber pot cleaners. Well. Okay. I doubted it'd be that bad. But if I just put up with this... it would at least get me more used to attention.

We got quite a lot, didn't we? People staring. Oh man.

A hand clasped mine and I blinked, staring down sideways, Aragorn's hand in mine. Seriously.

"Relax, sister." He said softly, close, somehow giivng me a smile through his hangover.

It was a nice gesture and I tried to relax, the hand releasing mine once more, as we slowly came up and onto the easier flat top of Minas Tirith. I had to admit I was pretty impressed by this massive city. People had spent years carving this city. Maybe entire lifetimes. We didn't go for the main hall though, Aragorn led me towards one of the smaller buildings to the left side, past the white tree and the four guards.

These buildings looked small but as we entered, surrounded by arches and shelters, but I saw that they must have been much larger than they looked because we walked into a large balcony-like area that overlooked a large room. It had to be three stories deep with balconies on three different levels overlooking a large room below. I recognised it now though, as we moved close to the edge of the balcony, recognising the room far down below as the room where Arwen had seen Aragorn. The silver-white stone, the balcony, the stone columns, and smiled somewhat to myself. I hadn't seen the spectacular height of the building like this.

Aragorn seemed equally as awed, his mouth open, eyes going over every detail as if he'd never seen it before. Maybe he hadn't. I didn't know much about his life except that he'd more or less been 'Prince on the run slash ranger'. It distracted him from his hangover better than my water idea.

"My Lord." A guard said softly. Aragorn moved away for just a moment before he gestured to me. "This way, Wenduin."

Down two flights of stairs and one floor, we followed the metal-clad guard towards a pair of fairly heavy doors wrought with iron and painted a dark blue and green. Aragorn twisted the iron handle and pushed the two doors open.

I had thought the room I'd had earlier had been luxurious. Not surprising after spending most of the past few months wandering Middle Earth with the Fellowship. Hell, I'd thought the room in Edoras had been amazing, and it had barely been wider than the bed and chair inside it. This room? The two doors opened into a wide area that felt like a hall all of its own. A bed, a real massive bed stretched out across one wall, gauzy curtains drifting backwards and forwards under heavier red velvet curtains that were tied back. No balcony but wide arched windows. And while the entire building was carved out of the stone of this mountain they'd clearly cut up, it was hard to see any stone, tapestries and carpets covered my room.

I was aware that there were no machines here, nothing to speed up the process, so someone had spent weeks or months knotting and weaving... or whatever it was they did... to create each of these tapestries and carpets.

"This is where you sleep." I'd forgotten Aragorn, and glanced sideways at him, his arms crossed as he gazed around. "Do you like it?"

I nodded and smiled. This seemed to please Aragorn. But my mind was already back in the little house where I'd left Boromir tied up.

"Aragorn, how long till your crowning thing happens?"

Aragorn smiled a half smile. He turned to the guard, gesturing, and they retreated out of the doors, closing them behind them. "I wondered when you'd ask. I have been meaning to talk with you since we return but there has been .." He hesitated, glancing back at the door where the guards had been, reaching up to run his hand through his hair.

"Problems? Duty?"

A nod. Aragorn suddenly flopped, literally flopped into one of the soft chairs, and ran his palms over his forehead. "This headache..."

I went for where I saw a jug of water and mugs, ignored the fruit, and poured him a glassful. "Drink."

Sitting down beside him, I rested my head on my hands, and gazed forward.

"A month. I promise you. Faramir and I have already spoken of it." Aragorn said when he'd drunk the water, leaning back, crossing a leg as he gazed across the small gap to me. "No more."

"I didn't know it'd take that long."

"There are many to come. As the steward of Gondor, Faramir is responsible, and he has already sent invites to the Lords and Ladies of Middle Earth. And I wished to talk with you about Mirkwood." Aragorn's gaze got serious now, his smile fading, he drank a nother deep gulp of water before he continued. "When we last spoke you were not certain of this marriage."

"Well..." I hesitated. Aragorn was fixing me with a look that caught me mid-lie. Well. No. I wasn't. "Elves are different."

"Aye, they are that. And now there is now a child." Aragorn sighed and started to kneed the back of his head with his knuckles. "I wish I were not so sore in the head for this talk."

"Just keep drinking."

"I shall. Do you feel any more certain?"

Another hesitation for my part. Aragorn opened his mouth to respond but I cut in, quickly, "Well, it's not easy. Is it? And everytime Boromir opens his stupid mouth, I keep feeling like it's the wrong thing, and … but I think it's right."

"Because there is a child?"

"Because I don't know till I try it. Do I?" I didn't really ask him. The words had seemed right to me. Aragorn was still kneading his head.

"I do not know myself." Aragorn admitted. He winced as the sunlight suddenly burst into the room, probably coming around that big stone thing in the middle of the city, and I shifted so that his poor eyes were in shade from my head. "Thank you. I thought you were unlikely to have changed your mind now, but I thought I should ask, after last night."

"Nope. All ...planes ahead." Okay. That sounded wrong. I wondered what that line was. "I mean, yeah, I still love Legolas. Boromir's just … scaring me."

"About the Elves?"

"Well, yeah. About growing old. Legolas dying when I do. This baby staying young as I get ancient." I frowned. No. That didn't bother me as much... "Well, more than that. I mean, Legolas said the Mirkwood Elves don't even read or write or anything. I don't even speak their language. That's what scares me. You grew up with them. It's easy for you."

"I did. I do not recall telling you that either." Aragorn raised an eyebrow at me. Oh. Woops. I flushed and he shrugged it off so easily. "No, they do not from what I have heard, for they have no need of it. They live for so long that knowlage may be remembered and passed on easily. Only the Elf kin from Lothlorien and Rivendel, and further, took pride and interest in recording through their writing. The kin of Mirkwood prefer to live a simpler life without worry for tedious duties such as writing."

Tedious duties. Oh yeah. No computers. I wondered how long it'd take for an Elf to write a book, given how obsessive they were with beauty and perfection, how long it'd take for them to carefully scribe out a page without a single error, without a single spelling mistake or grammar mistake, all while the page had to remain beautiful. Illustrated as well, most likely. Not like how I would take a book for granted.

"Not many men or women know the art of writing either, Wenduin, and if you do it is a skill many would envy."

"I guess … everyone where I came from knew how to write. It bothers me that no one here does." Or that I'd never really thought about how awesome it was that I'd ever been able to just go to school. I supposed kids around here generally started to work young and no one had heard of child sweatshops or things like that. "Or there. I don't know what to expect."

"You have a month before you leave." Aragorn spoke slowly and drank mid sentance. "You have my assistance, and I will instruct you in Elvish when Faramir does not require my help with his plans, and Boromir will-"

He hesitated and clearly regretted mentioning that. "Never mind He will do as we ask him to do. If you would have him not speak to you, then you need only ask us."

"It's okay." I muttered. Was it? Was it really okay for me to just ...let him keep it up? But it seemed wrong to tell him to not speak to me either. "He was drunk last night. I think he'll be all right from now on."

"I hope so." Aragorn stood up slowly. "I must sleep. My head is... but I am never far. And when you need company, the home for the Fellowship is always open to you."

I nodded and he wandered off without much more than a smile, a weary pained smile that decreased as he found the bright sunlight again, Aragorn's departure half welcome and half annoying.

The afternoon was spent exploring the room. It wasn't just the two main rooms, there were tiny ones, mostly for storage. People brought my 'things' up, all except for my weapons which I'd left kind of concealed near the edge of my bed, and put them here and there. Dresses mostly. Dresses that had been donated. I didn't have or need a lot more else right now. When they brought an ornate box containing my phone and the charger which had sat untouched and ignored with my 'boy clothing', however, I sat there and started to charge it. Gandalf hadn't said not to and he'd clearly given it back to someone. It seemed to work. He also apparently hadn't stabbed it. Maybe he'd decided it wasn't an evil communication box after all.

I sat at the edge of the window as the late afternoon sun turned golden, legs swinging, gazing out at the view as people moved backwards and forwards further down below. As if there was a magnet on him, I spotted Boromir before I spotted the house, walking slowly up the hill. Probably for the hall. He seemed to be ...well, alive. I hoped this meant Legolas and Gimli hadn't done anything nasty. Some guilt trickled in now though. I still didn't think Boromir had actually meant me any harm, or why else would he made sure he told Aragorn and Pippin, he'd just been ...well, drunk. Sure. Legolas was right. I was making a lot of excuses for him.

He hadn't tried to upset me. At least, he'd tried to … I didn't know. Warn me. Tell me something I should know. I sighed and leaned against the edge of the window. What was I supposed to do?

"Do not fall."

A voice startled me. I glanced back to Legolas, who stood close by, his magic stealth Elf thing getting him just a few feet from me without me hearing him. Greeeat. Legolas sat beside me slowly, careful to not push me, and gazed down. "He will not come near you."

"Oh? What did you say?"

"Not much needed to be said. Boromir has agreed to keep a distance." Legolas slid a hand into mine. "He was eager to agree. You are better off without his company from now on."

Somehow, as much as I wanted distance, this news did not sit well with me. It stung a little. I rested my head against the stone edge of the window and kept as best I could from showing on my face. Why did it upset me? Because he was my friend, probably.

I felt Legolas kiss my shoulder, sliding closer to wrap his arm around my waist, and leaned against him without really feeling much more than exhaustion and hunger. Sadness. Nothing else. Even my love for the Elf wasn't enough to make me feel better. My eyes were glued to Boromir, as he trudged slowly up the slope, his head down. They didn't seem tot be able to leave him until he'd entered a house.

I was not going to enjoy the next month.


	22. Time 'alone'

I woke late that night. Nightmare. Couldn't really recall what it had been about except that it'd been bad enough to wake up to. And Legolas wasn't around. This wasn't THAT surprising, he didn't sleep much, but I kind of wished he did.

I lay alone in the massive room, staring up, the darkness only slightly broken up by faint moonlight outside. This kind of dark night was what made me miss and long for the more simple rooms I'd had in Middle Earth before now. Sure, they were barely wider than the beds, but they were cosy. This was a massive cave with dark spots. Waking up mid-nightmare made those dark spots seem to grow in size.

Nausa rose up, fast, a wave of sickness that reminded me why I'd woken up from that nightmare to begin with. I slid out of bed and onto the cold stone floor, searching for that stupid little chamber pot thing, and only just managed to find it before I chucked up all over those works of art they called 'rugs'. Dinner came up in a spectacular and disgusting shower of ...well, I was glad I couldn't see it in the dim light. I coughed, spluttering as the acidic stuff got caught, and tried to get some of it free.

I heard the door open and a crack of soft light flooded into the room. Not Legolas but Aragorn, apparently awake, asking softly, "Are you all right? Are you dressed?"

"Uh huh." Oh right. Undressing. I hadn't even thought of that last night. "Yes, yes."

He wasn't waiting for me to answer. Aragorn was already heading for the jug of water and pouring it for me. I sat back, trying to tug the covering over the pot thing as he moved back over, hiding the vomit. Chamber pots were not something I was planning on sharing with him OR Legolas. I didn't care how close they lived to me.

Oh god, did Elves have chamber pots? Holes in the ground? Did they even poo or wee?

"Drink."

I drank the water, resisting the urge to ask Aragorn, and washed as much of the horrible taste down as I could. Now that I was starting to really wake up it occurred to me that A- Aragorn had come in pretty fast, and B- ...he was dressed.

"Is it still early?"

"Aye, the early hours of the morning." Aragorn knelt down beside me. "But I could not sleep. I have been reading long into the night. Legolas asked me to keep an ear on you."

On me, or on Boromir, should he come creeping around? This reminded me of earlier. I sighed quietly and drank another deep gulp of water. The only way Boromir would break his oath was if he got drunk again and even then I felt like it probably wouldn't happen. The disappointed from before returned and it was intensified now by how Legolas just ...wasn't here. Again.

"Where is the elf?" He'd missed out on my first 'morning sickness'. Okay. It may have been unrelated to the pregnancy but who could resist the first educational display of human pregnancy? This brought up another big question about Legolas. _Did_ Elves vomit?

"He is ensuring that all the records of Elves be moved into a safe place within my own private library." Aragorn responded. "Gandalf assists him, between tending to Frodo."

Frodo. Oh bloody hell, I was the worst Fellowship member, I hadn't even THOUGHT about the poor hobbit. Had I missed him waking? "Frodo is awake?"

"Nearly."

I'd heard this before and hesitated. Okay. So what I remembered was the quick transitions, Frodo did his thing, Gandalf got the eagles, Frodo woke up and Aragorn was crowned. Three seconds between each moment at the most. Was this normal though? It'd been at least a week since Frodo had returned. A week!

A new fear started to rise in me. I'd changed things just by being here. Was it possible I'd influenced something? Changed something in Sam and Frodo's path, their choices, something that had cause Frodo's health to be worse than I had expected, or something like that? Aragorn was watching me thoughtfully and I diverted my eyes to the half empty cup of water. Another long drink until it was empty.

"Are you all right, Wenduin?"

"With one of my friends acting like he's going mad?" I muttered. "Plus the nightmares. What do you think?" This negative response bothered me so I added, quickly, trying to be a good Fellowship member once again, "It's just the pregnancy. Making me feel a bit emotional. I'm worried about Frodo." Not a lie either. I couldn't believe I'd been so selfish and short sighted as to forget him.

"I have little experience with this condition." Aragorn responded softly. "But I am aware it is not a easy time for any woman. If you would like a maid who has already mothered children, as to have a friendly motherly ear to speak to, you need but ask. Faramir has already suggested that I hire a midwife for your maid."

A midwife. For my maid. Oh yeah, so she could tell me all about how the baby would make something that small turn into something that big. More questions that hadn't mattered. How much did women know about childbirth around here? More anxiety. I stood up slowly, Aragorn quick to help, and headed for the water. "It's okay. Maybe later. I feel better now that the nightmares are fading." _That_ was a lie. I felt worse. Urgh. "Frodo hasn't even shown some signs of waking?"

"As I have said, he is very close, and speaks often in his sleep. Several times he has opened his eyes for a minute as I heal his wounds. You need not worry for him. He is in good hands." Aragorn's words surprised me. He'd been going there to heal him too? He placed a hand on my shoulder gently. "Sam worries for all of us. Trust that Frodo wakes. Even the black breath can be healed."

Wait. The black breath? This was not something I remembered being apart of Frodo's end result. "What is that?"

"I will explain it in the morning." Aragorn responded as he frowned. He was hesitating, growing tense, and for a moment I wondered if it was worse than I'd thought. There was tenseness in his face that he tried to hide. "Do not worry over Frodo. He wakes soon."

Aragorn leaned forward to kiss my forehead. Even through my anxiety, guilt and confusion, this simple gesture kind of warmed my heart... as if he really was a brother to me. "You are tired, my friend, tired with the worry and strain of your condition. All seems worse at night. Come and lie down once more. I will sing until you are asleep. We are brother and sister now, in heart, and I will comfort you when you need it until the time comes when you leave us."

I let him lead me back to the bed, I didn't correct him on the 'your condition' thing, I was too surprised by this side of Aragorn that I hadn't seen during his 'hardened warrior' time out in the wild. Not that I didn't like it... it was just different. Laying back down I tucked a soft pillow under my head and watched as Aragorn pulled one of the wooden chairs over to sit beside me. Aragorn actually did start to sing- it was a deep soothing song that I had to assume was in Elvish.

"You'll make a good father." I muttered, sighing, the words somehow easing my tense body back down into sleep. I could see it.

This simple statement made something in Aragorn's face warm and he smiled, gazing into the dark, continuing to sing in that soft deep voice of his. He paused, "I will wake you when the Lady Eowyn leaves," before he continued.

He kept his word. Early that morning, after another couple of nightmares, I was woken and followed Aragorn outside, half asleep as Eowyn hugged me hard. She was already ready to leave, Eomer with Aragorn, the others already mounted and waiting.

"I will see you soon." She promised softly. "Stay strong. When I return your baby may be starting to show."

"I hope so." I really did. "Have a safe ride."

Once Eowyn was gone I sighed, crossing my arms, slightly alone. Aragorn stood beside me as we watched the Rohirrims make their quick progress down Minas Tirith's levels and out across the plains, the pre-dawn light strong enough to watch them until they were just a blur.

"Go rest once more." Aragorn said softly. "You are tired."

No argument from me. I crawled back into bed, still dressed, and flopped.

When I next woke, it was late in the morning, and ...I felt better. I wasn't sure why. Just that I woke in that slow warm state of pleasure that I hadn't had for some time, the sounds of that song still echoing in my head as if it had come with me into the dreams, every muscle tingling with relaxation.

I noticed the curtains of my bed, the heavy velvet ones, had been drawn around me and created a much cosier atmosphere. One remained tied back, the gauzy curtain underneath it swaying backwards and forwards in a light breeze from the open window, and I sighed with contentment.

Now, all I needed was the elf with the grapes and …

Magically Legolas appeared. Beautiful. Wearing just the pants, held onto his hips by the drawstring, hair once again loose and braidless. He didn't have grapes, to my disappointment, but he had that warm smile and an apple in a bowl. He sank down onto the bed beside me with a soft, "Morning, a'maelamin. You are still dressed."

"Morning..." I was about to try and return this word but decided last minute to practice it a bit first with Aragorn. Surprise Legolas with my awesome Elvish. "Leggy. I know I am. Come here." I slid closer, resting my head against his thigh, one of Legolas' hands automatically finding my shoulder. "I missed you last night."

"I know." He slid the knife into the apple with one hand, the other tracing up and down my arm slowly, brushing my hair back. "I had a task to complete. Aragorn told me that you did not sleep well."

"Just an upset stomach." I yawned again, throat heavy with sleep, and shut my eyes. "No big deal."

"And dreams?"

"I don't really remember. They weren't good but … I don't really remember anything. Can't have been that bad." Given how I'd felt last night it was probably pretty understanding that I'd had bad dreams. Something sweet was placed against my lips and I opened my mouth to accept a piece of the apple, nipping at Legolas' thumb as I did, which made him make a soft sound of amusement above me. "How is Frodo?"

"Frodo wakes today." Argh, how many times had I heard them suggest this? Legolas was changing the topic quickly. "Today, soon, you and I will be alone. All day."

"All day?" Sex all day? I felt myself cheer up slightly. Not about the sex, though I wasn't going to complain, but ...Legolas. Beside me all day. Maybe that had been why I'd felt so bothered... he kept vanishing off to do things and half the time he didn't tell me what those things were. During my action mode time this was fine by me- I didn't _have_ to know what Legolas was doing as I had my own shit to do- but when I was in 'peace' mode it got a little more frustrating. I needed to do something as well so I didn't feel so left out of his stuff.

"I have arranged it. I will remain by your side today, as I search through the records, and as I repair my clothing." Legolas nodded up towards the table against the wall. There were several large piles of books there, scrolls, and the pile of his clothing.

"Besides that?" I asked, reaching up to trace a finger over his face, and when he twisted his head to kiss my palm I felt warmth flood my heart. Oh fuck. I was in love with him. A smile finally breaking through my own turmoil of emotions, I reached down with my free hand to unhook the laces over my chest. Just a few. Just to ...let some cleavage show. Pretending to scratch the skin there I added an innocent, "We should eat something too," as if what I'd done hadn't even really crossed my mind. "Not just read and sew."

The affect on Legolas amazed me, the way his face went from 'relaxed' to 'focus' with a quick snap. Oh, he didn't openly gawk down my dress, he could be more subtle than that, but it didn't change that he was now doing his magic Elf eyeball thing. I was sure of it.

Course, I wasn't much better, because those pants he wore? They were thin. I felt his muscles under the side of my head. He was shirtless too. I had this mad urge to ...just write my name somewhere. Kind of a 'mine' urge. This must have been why people tattooed their lovers names somewhere.

"There will be some visitors soon."

"Visitors?" I slid up slowly. Legolas drew me into his lap and, rather than just sit there, I pushed him down onto his back and slid one leg either side of his legs. _Mine_. I kissed his collarbone, tiny feathery kisses that made him openly shiver, one of his legs rising to run against that space between my legs. "When?"

He gazed up at me, fingers running down my arms, his hands clutching onto my thighs as I teased him with gentle kisses. "In two minutes. Let me dress myself."

_Two minutes_? I sighed as he slowly lifted me up. I decided to not argue and sat willingly to one side and watched as he tugged on a basic shirt over his pants. "Maid?"

"For you, yes. For myself, I must offer some assistance with the envoy to the Elves, so that all is done correctly." Legolas hesitated mid-lace. "And I think you may need to bathe within the room beside this one. So we will not spend the day alone until I am done. But come join us when you have bathed."

So not quite 'together' all day. This was fine. When I ravished him later I'd smell like a flower of some kind. I slid up to help him, fingers tracing across the front of the tunic and against his bare skin as I did it up. It was one of those looser once, a v-neck down the front with laces to close it, a matching thicker fabric tunic close by. Felt soft so I assumed it was silk. When I was done he lifted the heavier one, maybe wool or something, and dropped it over his head.

"Are you all right?" Legolas said softly, lowering his head to kiss my neck, I felt him tugging the laces of my own dress tight once more.

"Yeah." I muttered. But I didn't want to lie to him either. "The whole thing is a bit stressful. It's okay. I feel better when you're around." Worse when Boromir was around. Just bringing up his name in my head made me feel sicker. I tied a bow in the thin laces and was kissed gently, our foreheads bumping together, Legolas sliding his hands around my arms and to my back so he could hold me.

"I am never far from you."

"I know. I'll find things to do." The lack of action was probably what got to me most. I itched for it. I was _bored_ without it. Problems seemed intensified and … to be perfectly honest, being pregnant was probably not helping. "I will. You do what you need to do and I will too."

"What have you-" Legolas was cut off by a tentative knock at the door. He and I both stared sideways as a woman entered, Aragorn with her, Faramir drifting around in the background on the edge of the balcony. A new woman. Older, lines of grey through white hair, hair tied back in the same way most women in Minas Tirith seemed to do their hair. Legolas hugged me against him, just a moment, before he released me.

"My Lady, this is Irati. Your new maid." Aragorn smiled somewhat. "Legolas, we'll be-"

"It's all right. I am coming now. I will return soon." Legolas stood up straighter and moved towards the door. He glanced back at me, just a moment, before he followed Aragorn out.

Irati turned out to be a midwife as well as my new maid. She might have been in her late sixties, maybe even older, it was difficult to tell. Already had a grown up granddaughter who was my age and pregnant herself.

She told me all about this as she scrubbed me in the flower-scented bath, located within a tiny side room that I hadn't noticed behind one of the tapestries, fussing and actually telling me off when I tried to tell her to let me do it myself. She wasn't just done there though- Irati continued on to scold me for sleeping in my clothing. In some ways she bothered me... and in some ways it was a comfort to meet a mothering kind of person.

"Have you not cut this hair?" She was saying, lifting my hair as I sat half hunched over in the bath, Irati's brown eyes examining the curled wet hair critically. "The ends are dry and are damaged."

"Well, I thought ..." I hadn't really thought anything to be honest. It was hair. But it was short hair, compared to most women, still just barely getting to my armpits so I offered, "It is a bit short to cut."

"Hair grows faster when cut every now and then." To my surprise she was actually pulling out something sharp and metallic out of a bag at her side. "Hold still as I cut it."

She didn't stop there. To my shock and horror, she actually made me stand up, and shaved my legs. Again I tried to say I'd do it- and again, Irati more or less out-powered me about that issue. She was my maid. I wouldn't do a thing.

"Besides, you will likely cut yourself." She added. "Cutting the hair on your leg is not the same as gutting an orc." The words were very un-ladylike and to the point. Her hands were rough, used to work, and nothing about her dress was fine. I liked her. Even if she _was_ kneeling in front of my naked body. "Stay still!"

I froze and stayed still, as she ran the very sharp blade of a knife up and down my legs, nearly leaping back when she went for the bikini area. A sharp pain in my thigh made her throw her hands up, a good trickle of blood run down my leg, and Irati just about grabbed me by the ass to hold me still with another, "Stay still, this is no bread knife! Trimming this hair decreases the smell and need for bathing. Now relax. How much of your body will I see if I am birthing this child? Hold your hand on the cut and I will bind it soon."

Oh bloody hell, I hadn't thought of that, that someone... probably a poor Elf who had no body hair under her chin... would have to be at the receiving end. I slid my palm onto the bleeding cut with a hiss of pain and tried to not run screaming. Naked. For Legolas. What if I called for him? He'd come running if I yelled.

Numbly, face burning with embarrassment, I did what I was told. She carefully dragged the knife where she desired and I really didn't know what else to do but obey. Raise leg. Raise other leg. Bend over. Oh fucking hell. Raise arms. Okay, the arms were less embarrassing, but it got bad again when the woman actually removed more hair from lower down. In the behind. She only let me back off and grab for a sheet when she'd more or less cleaned all hair off me. My dignity was long gone. Irati, this new 'maid', had just about seen every inch of my body.

And Legolas was going to laugh his head off...well, mentally... when he saw what she'd done to the hair down there. Everywhere. I was bald.

"Here. Let me clean the wound." Irati slid the knife to one side when she'd wiped it and pressed a wad of fabric against it, wrapping it slowly, adding, "You act as if you have not been assisted before."

"No. I mean, I shaved my legs sometimes of hair-" I assumed, still wasn't totally clear about my own history, "-but on my own."

"Did your mother not do it for you or a sister? You for them?" Irati ran her fingers along the bandage to smoothen it once more.

"No." It occurred to me, as she carefully tied a knot in the bandage, that maybe this wasn't so unusual here. Women being naked around each other. Helping each other. Mirrors couldn't be that easy to come by and the knife she'd used looked pretty sharp. It would have been so easy to cut myself with that thing even with a mirror. "I guess women do it for each other here."

"Aye, they do, once a girl starts to bleed. The hair can hold onto odour and it is more pleasant to remove it, so that we do not have to bathe as much, for it is difficult and tiring to have to bathe often. When the hair is removed we may last longer with a quicker wash." Irati nodded past me to a basin and a large heavy jug. "With just the water in there. This room is for your washing and needs. Now. The oil-"

And without a bat of an eyelash she actually started to rub oil into me. Lavender, I thought, maybe something else. Hands all over me. So I tried to focus on other things.

The tiny room had a narrow window from ceiling to floor, just a slit, that let in enough light to see but not too much to let people stare inside. The floor was bare stone, carved in a slight slope towards a draining hole at the edge of the window, which meant that all the water I dripped off was slowly making its way towards the edge of the window and would drain out there. Wooden trunks rested against one side of the room, in a kind of 'cupboard' with an iron door, which must have stored something. I'd seen a few brought in yesterday and hadn't thought about it.

I noticed now that there was a box. To sit on. Pieces of cloth beside it. Woah- was that a medieval toilet? Wow, that would make chamberpots easier, and I hadn't even thought to ask about that. And come to think about it, I did need it right now.

"I need to ...relieve myself. Before I dress." It would be easier that way. Those fucking dresses were like doing sit ups holding onto weights. Box or not. I added, slowly, "I need to dress in pants and a tunic today." Why not? I was going to be inside with Legolas all the time.

"I was warned that you preferred this style of dress." Irati raised an eyebrow as she got to her feet, slowly, accepting my hand. With a soft groan she rubbed her knees. "These floors are cold."

"I can do the oil part at least."

"The day I cannot work, kneel or stand is the day I am in my deathbed, child, so you will not. I did this for Faramir's mother and I can do it for you."

"You were-"

"Their nurse, the Lady's maid and midwife, and ever loyal to the Steward's family. Now I am to you as well. You are surprised Faramir asked me?" When I didn't answer, just started at her in surprise, Irati added with a soft chuckle, "Faramir told me the troubles with Boromir and asked for assistance. He often comes for a meal and to talk. You think _he_ can handle his brother? It was me, not Faramir, who would have to drag Boromir back as a near-babe from the moment he could walk. He does not know when to stop when he desires something for himself. This has clearly not changed as a grown man. If he comes to visit you, he will find me, and grown man or no I will not be gentle with him. I have not forgotten what it is I will do with a naughty child, even if he has." She withdrew something from that bag of hers- a long coiled whip.

Oh man. I laughed, shutting my eyes, half amused and half ...well, sad again. Faramir had gotten Boromir's nurse onto the case. She clearly hadn't abused them, exactly, if Faramir had asked her. I couldn't see him letting anyone near his brother like that after ...well, after what he'd experienced from his own father. "So you raised him?"

"His mother raised him. I was her maid and the nurse. Her health could not always allow for her to be strong when she had to be. When she died I could not say I was surprised. I had warned their father to be gentler with her and allow her time to rest but-" Irati grunted and pushed the thin whip back into the bag. "He was too far from her age to understand. Too old to be her husband."

Gentler with her? Did that mean...

At the look on my face Irati added quickly, "Don't let your mind make up silly stories, girl, nothing so terrible. He could not bear to travel Gondor without her by his side. Day or night, she would be there, riding, travelling, sleeping in all kinds of conditions, and her body grew ill. When she was pregnant the second time I warned his father to let her remain within Minas Tirith but he could not bear to be parted with her. The pregnancy was difficult, as they travelled the land, and by the time she returned her body suffered. Faramir came too early."

"Is that how she died?" I was distracted by my bladder by this and stood there, the sheet around me once more, watching Irati as she sunk heavily into a wooden chair.

"The birth did kill her, yes, but not fast as you might think." Irati's eyes flashed to my stomach. "You have started your pregnancy with a healthy body, thick of limb and strong of muscle, and will have no trouble birthing that child if you listen to me. But his mother... Finduilas was already weak and sick. Spent much time within her bed. When she was with-child with Boromir, twas very different, she was very strong and alive. Then, it was known that none could match her for a bow or as a rider. Much of her I see in you, including what you prefer to wear in private." Irati chuckled. "Boromir was already coming out by the time I made it to her side. They were eager to meet one another."

I slid down to sit beside her, interested now, as the old women reached into her bag once more to draw something out. A sandwich. She broke it with her hands and offered me half.

"Eat."

"When did she get sick?"

"Slowly as the years continued. She lost children in pregnancy. Always a son. Finduilas never told Denethor, out of love for him, as she believed that her son was trying over and over to be born. But she was sad. She missed her home, and as Denethor grew into an older man, he was less able to see how alone she felt. Faramir's pregnancy was not an easy one and Denethor was tasked to travel once more on behalf of his father, the steward of Gondor, and once again he took her with him." Irati sighed quietly. "When she returned she could barely walk. But she had held onto this child. Faramir came too early, her body was too weak, and her heart too sad. She feared he would be dead, feared his death, and her sadness grew worse when he appeared to be weak and sickly as she was. There was no more smiling. She remained in bed and rarely left it. Denethor could not look at Faramir, only see his wife, and see her broken heart. I raised Faramir and Boromir spent most of his time with us. She held onto life long enough for him to have a memory of her but when she died, I was told to leave. But Faramir would continue to come to me. I would have to bring him back, time and time again, even when he begged to stay."

Irati didn't speak for a long time. The smile had long gone, she just looked sad and tired, leaning forward. Did she know what Faramir had suffered?

I didn't know what to say. I sat there, staring ahead, her words echoing in my head. My world had something about that- depression after pregnancy. But maybe she'd already been sick. Or maybe not.

"You will not suffer as she did, girl, so wipe that face away. How far are you?"

"I don't know." I admitted. How long had it been since Lothlorien? "Not that far."

"Perhaps not. I have heard you intend to ride to Mirkwood within a month. This is _not_ a wise idea." Irati leaned forward, taking a bite of her sandwich as she did, waving her free hand at me as she ate through her chewing, "The path is dangerous and filled with danger. The forests of Mirkwood alone, I have heard, are not safe even for a warrior. It will weaken you. But if you intend on going anyway, eat that food and keep your body thick and strong, and keep walking."

Once Irati had made sure I'd eaten, relieved myself and had dressed, she left me alone to arrange the right 'meals' with the cook. Dressing me hadn't worried me so much- and anyway I need her help with that asmy leg still struggled to hold my weight when I bent it- but something else weighed on my mind.

I stood there in the soft grey pants, pulled over matching leggings, and the long knee-length dark blue tunic that had been studded with grey stars. She'd twisted my hair back in some complex knot braid thing behind my head in true Minas Tirith style and attached decorations to it. Clearly had to make some part of me feminine. I gazed out the window at the city once more. Then to a mirror to stare at myself. I stared at my stomach, lifting the soft dark blue fabric, trying to find the baby lump. Nothing. The hair looked kind of cool though and the tunic actually did seem pretty feminine. The pants were fairly baggy at the bottom. Could have passed for a skirt if I didn't move. Maybe it had been made for me.

"The look suits you."

Boromir's voice startled me and I jumped back from the window as he hoisted himself up. Into the window. Panting. Sweating. A big stupid grin on his face as if he'd just won the lottery.

Hang on, it was a sixty foot climb.

"Did you climb all the fucking way up? What the hell-" His hand clasped over mine as I went to shout at him.

"Your mouth, my lady, does not suit Gondor. Quieten down." Boromir released my mouth, glancing over his shoulder at the climb, and shook his head. "No, I came from a nearby building and climbed across."

Oh bloody hell.

"Boromir, you aren't even supposed to be here." Not that I minded, I realised, and in fact I was kind of glad he was back to his usual stupid self. "Didn't you swear?"

"Swear? Never. I suggested I may think on it." Boromir sat down heavily on the ground and added, "Are you bringing me water?"

I brought him water. I dumped the whole stupid jug on his big stupid head. He grinned at me and opened his mouth to drink part of it. The temptation to kick him was too great to ignore and I almost fell over, Boromir grasping my legs just in time, as my poor injured leg nearly buckled.

"You came into my room drunk and kissed me. What's the matter with you?" I slid backwards, careful of my leg and the now soaking floor, only a tiny bit guilty that I'd gotten part of their fancy rug wet. I'd gotten their fancy Boromir wet. That had been worth it.

"This how you treat a man who comes to apologise?"

"Apologise?"

"Aye, woman, I risked life, limb, Elf and Dwarf to come apologetic." Boromir slowly stood up and shook his wet tunic. He actually had the nerve to eye Legolas' tunic, grinning once more, and reached out.

"Not wearing it." I blocked him pretty fast.

"I was teasing. Wenduin. I am sorry for how I behaved." His smile faded. Okay. There was some kind of genuine apologetic thing there. "I get afraid."

"Yeah, and you've gotta stop letting it run your life. You're acting stupid." I snapped. I sighed as he flinched. First time I'd called him stupid to his face. I added, quieter, "And you're not stupid. So stop it."

Boromir sighed. He strode across the room to sit in a chair, quieter now, the amusement and teasing gone from his face. Now I saw that he was sweaty and pretty tired looking, slumping, and wondered if he'd really 'just climbed from a nearby building' or not.

I held out an apple and he grasped my wrist instead, his eyes sideways, so I yanked it back and crossed my arms. I didn't know what to say. I stood beside him, arms crossed as I stayed balanced, . The air grew silent, tense, even awkward. I didn't know what to say.

"So Legolas and Gimli talked with you?"

"If by talk, hang me over the edge of Minas Tirith and warn me to behave, yes."

Oh man. That was surprisingly dark for Legolas. But Boromir grinned suddenly, the light returning to his face, clearly not at all upset. If anything he seemed amused. He grasped me, suddenly, tugging me into his lap, lips capturing mine with a hard kiss as his arms wrapped around me. Heat flooded me, my face, my body, feeling his arms grab me hard and hold me there. He ignored my hand as I slammed the apple into his side repeatedly.

"Do not sleep beside Legolas. Do not ..." Boromir's voice was very soft, his head ducking to kiss my cheek, both sides, and once again I saw the traces of aging on his face. Lines, wrinkles, hair that was slightly greasy, I could still feel the beard tickling my face. Something hard under my thigh.

"Boromir, for fuc-"

He cut me off with another kiss, even as I struggled to stand, this one long and gentle, one of his hands behind my head. Only when I stopped trying to talk did Boromir speak. "I will _not_ allow you to sleep beside him."

I smashed the apple over his head when he came close for another kiss, the entire thing crashing into pieces and Boromir sighed. He stood up for us both, releasing me. The strength in his legs, I felt it as we rose together, his strong arms keeping me upright even as my leg threatened to buckle when I tried to back up too fast. But he was breathing hard, even as he stood there holding me, and that hardness I was sure I'd felt...

Leggings did not hide much. Even if he wasn't competely turned on, I had seen Legolas enough to know 'excited for more'. And no- although I'd hope it _was_ it was not his sword. Argh.

The worst part was that I felt it too. I did. Okay, clearly not the same I also now wanted to throw up, the smell of the apple bothered me. But I felt that arousal. It made me feel so fucking ashamed like something was wrong with me. Was it because I'd already felt it earlier with Legolas? Had I pre-...teased my body into this? Was it hormonal?

It was mad. They were physically so different. It wasn't like I was mistaking them for each other.

Boromir either didn't notice or didn't get bothered so I kept my eyes above belt. Crossed my arms. Yes. It had to be the pregnancy. I'd been seducing Legolas before. Or trying to. It hadn't worked very well.

"Stop kissing me." I snapped. "You have to ruin the moment everytime with that."

"You are beautiful when you're angry." Boromir said softly, ducking closer, and when I shoved at him, he frowned. "Wenduin..."

"You think it's funny to climb up here and do that?" I went to kick him, Boromir backing up, his hands raising in defeat. "I should throw you out the window for that. Dangle you off Minas Tirith myself."

Boromir grabbed me hard, sudden, catching my hands as they tried to fly at his face. He bent over me, eyes fixed in mine, all trace of humour gone. "I could not resist your face. I will … try and restrain myself. Wenduin, stop being angry and listen to me. stay away from Legolas at night. During the day..." Jealousy flared across his face, hot angry jealousy that made his eyes shut a moment, and hurt that stabbed at my heart. "...do not torment me with that thought. But at night, sleep alone, remain alone in your bed. I will stay with you. You will be safe."

His hurt face burnt into my mind and heart, as he swallowed, his throat convulsing even as he tried to talk past this thought... this reality that so clearly hurt him. No masks, nothing, it was like he couldn't even begin to hide how much it hurt him to know that Legolas and I had that kind of relationship. Well... of course we did. We were married. He had to get used to it.

Wait, did he just say he'd stay with me overnight?

"Oh no, we are not-" Pity was swallowed by my anger. Did he just suggest HE'D sleep with me instead? What, was this a time share thing, Legolas during the day and Boromir at night? "I'm not sleeping with you."

I wished I hadn't said it so bluntly and with so much anger. Boromir flinched, hurt across his face, his body actually reacting as if I'd struck him. He didn't let go of me though. If I had thought the face before was bad... this one made me want to kiss him, or something, just to get the more familiar smile back. Kissing him was rejected fast. Maybe tweaking his nose.

"Not for _that_. Wenduin, but …" Boromir gritted his teeth, eyes to the door, voice soft all over again. The look on his face and the tone of his voice disarmed my anger a moment. Something was wrong. "If you were my wife and it were up to me, I could not lie to you, but I..."

"_What_?!" Lie to me? What the hell was he on about?

"Do not sleep with Legolas at night." He was right up against me all over again, grasping my arms, bent over me, face mere inches from mine. Boromir was pleading, face tense, eyes fixed in mine. "I will remain close. You are safer without him close. I beg you, my love, to listen to this. If you listen to nothing else I say to you, listen to this, and stay safe."

Nothing about this made any sense. _Nothing_. He was acting like I was still in danger when the whole 'ring' thing was over. Wasn't it? I was baffled and a little taken back by this. No one else had seemed that stressed. Not Legolas, not Aragorn, no one. Yet here Boromir was slapping me over the head with the same anxious warning he'd had pre-ring destruction. Was he going crazy? Even if there _were_ Orc roaming around, which was probably very likely, there was no chance they'd reach me up here.

"Boromir, I'm not in danger." And Legolas was hardly going to endanger me anyway. If anything Boromir should have been glad about Legolas hanging around. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing. Just heed my warning." A lie. A flat out lie. He looked away as he'd said it. Boromir could never lie to my face. He hated it, I knew that, and I saw the self-loathing openly displayed even now. "I swear to protect you. Any way I must."

Okay. Yeah. I was kind of afraid that he was loosing his mind now. This feeling was kind of cemented when he glanced over his shoulder, as if he was expecting some kind of danger, hands clenching hard on my arms.

He yawned, such a sudden and unexpected thing for him to do that I blinked, and saw for a moment this incredible exhaustion in Boromir's face. Wait. Was this all because he was just … _tired_?

"Haven't you been sleeping?" I asked. I noticed my voice had gotten softer. "Boromir? Are you all right?"

Boromir shook his head. " I have not been able to sleep well. I am tired and nightmares wake me constantly."

Nightmares. Tired.

"How long have you been like this?" I tried to push him again, hard, but Boromir refused to let go of my arms. He just stood there and stared at me. "Boromir, don't lie to me."

"Since the path of the dead." His shoulders slumped as he admitted it. "I have slept badly since then. Not at all since my behaviour towards you last."

I sighed. All my lasting anger faded at Boromir. Before he'd left Minas Tirith he'd told me that it had been worse than he'd admitted to Faramir. I hadn't even given it a lasting thought since. But it must have scared him badly and … I hadn't even thought about that. Or how it was affecting him. I couldn't even begin to know how it'd feel to be lost in a pitch black cave like that, not to mention being lost in one filled with skulls and murderous sadistic ghosts that wanted to kill anything alive.

"You were drunk and tired. And stupid. But you said sorry. So … apology accepted." At least from me. Legolas might have needed some more convincing. I wasn't sure- he had never made his feelings about Boromir that clear to me- but if he'd dangled Boromir off Minas Tirith then he clearly hadn't been impressed. "Now, let go of my arms."

This time when I tried to get his hands off my arms, he let me, and all it seemed to take was for me to be gentle. When I pushed or shoved the man, he pushed and shoved back, but … now, as I took his hand and gently led him towards the bed, he actually followed meekly like a tired child who'd had enough of resisting.

"Come on, Boromir." I muttered. His hand tightened around mine as I slowly pushed him towards the bed. "Lie down and have a sleep. When you've slept, then we'll talk, and I'll tell Legolas to let you spend time with me again."

Even as I said the words I regretted saying them, I knew this was going to screw with my mind and annoy Legolas, but the relief on Boromir's face was enough to push that other anxiety away for now. He actually smiled again, a tired worn smile, and lifted my hand to kiss the back of it.

"I do not know if I will sleep long but... thank you."

"Just give it a go. I'll be here." Legolas could do his meeting thing alone, I supposed. There were a bunch of books over on the table. Surely no one would mind if I read them carefully while Boromir had a nap.

Legolas may not have liked this but if Boromir was tired, no wonder why he was behaving weird, and ...well, I was his friend. I didn't even look at him when he tugged his leather tunic off. Out of the corner of my eye I saw he had another thing, some thin shirt, underneath. Phew. He wasn't stripping off everything.

"You will remain?"

"It might help you sleep." I responded. I knew that Aragorn had that effect on me last night. "I'll read."

"You can read?" He sounded faintly impressed as he rested down on his side in my bed. Boromir sighed as his body suddenly relaxed. "It smells of you here. There is no sweeter scent, not in flower or perfume, no smell that eases my heart as this does. Nay. There was one."

"Oh?" I kind of didn't want to know who it was. I already had a bad feeling that I knew who he was going to say. I moved to sit down at the table covered in books, avoiding his eyes, feeling them burn into the side of my face.

"My mother."

Damn. I knew he'd say that.

"You are fair, my lady, and light in heart. I did not know I was dead until I found you. Now..." His body was relaxing, and when I stole a look his eyes were shut, face relaxing, voice softer and sleepy. "...I feel as if I am awakening. As a man living content in eternal night who sees the sun rise for the first time. The warmth of your presence fills my heart."

My face heated, but he seemed happy, content, his eyes shutting. Damn him. Saying sweet things. "Oh... shut up and go to sleep."

"My foul mouthed sunrise." He laughed, a soft chuff of noise, and the genuine smile broke out across his face once more, lines everywhere, big smile lines that suited Boromir a hell of a lot more than the sadness or anxiety I'd seen on his face. This was the kind of face he needed to keep. I wished he'd smile like that for the rest of his life. "I will sleep."

Not his foul mouthed anything. Except friend. But I didn't open my mouth. He seemed too close to sleep to start another argument or something. Within minutes he seemed to be asleep, his breathing slowed, and I groaned softly.

Legolas was not going to like this.

He'd have to deal with it though. If the problem was that Boromir was struggling to sleep then ...well, maybe I could talk to everyone. The whole Fellowship. Maybe he needed company. This didn't just have to be me. What did people call it? Post traumatic stress syndrome? It was probably not that surprising. Hell- he'd probably seen enough battle to have it anyway, and the pitch black cave might have just brought it on worse.

I was still thinking about it when Legolas returned. I held my finger to my lips, shaking my head as he glanced at the knife in his belt, and he raised one eyebrow. I slid to my feet slowly and grasped Legolas' hand, drawing him into the balcony outside my room, closing the door a little.

"Did he hurt you?" Legolas bent low, kissing me carefully, his hands running up and down my arms. "Or did you find him there?

"No. I asked him to have a sleep. I think he's ..." God, how did I explain this. "I think all the things that have happened have put his mind in a bad ...strain. We call it post traumatic stress syndrome. It means he's struggling." I noticed I didn't mention the kiss. Guilt trickled in. I'd do it later when Boromir had rested. Better later. Legolas would probably make him leave now if I told him.

"But this is not your duty to heal, my love."

I felt relief as Legolas embraced me, leaning against him, relieved that he wasn't angry with me or storming in to wake Boromir. Okay. He may not have stormed in. Legolas didn't 'storm' anywhere, really, he was the usual picture of calm. He stroked my back slowly. "Should we find his brother?"

"Let the poor man sleep."

"I do not know if this is wise." Legolas said quietly. "His feelings for you will extend his suffering if you continue to show him warmth."

"I know." My heart sank. I wanted to make Boromir happy too. The very idea of having to break his heart, or having to separate from him completely, this thought suddenly broke my heart. I didn't want him to be hurt. "I was thinking he might need the help of everyone. The whole Fellowship."

"I agree with you."

We stood there a few minutes, his slow heartbeat against my ear, arms tight around me. When I released him, Legolas sighed softly, and leaned down to kiss me slowly, tender.

"I should go back. I promised to be there when he woke."

"I will read in the library beside your room." There was a library beside my room? Legolas released me reluctantly. "There I may hear if you call through the stone."

"Do you need any of the books?"

"There are others I can look through." He kissed my forehead before he moved away. "We will talk later. Bring me my tunic. I will repair it now, so that later we may spend time alone together with no distractions."

With that promise, he vanished, his clothing over one arm and attention ahead.

Lunch came, I went into the hall for it, and Boromir continued to sleep even as I sat there eating. It was so quiet, he barely moved, clearly dreaming as he made soft noises against the pillow he grasped tightly.

I kept finding myself staring at him, having to look away, and ended up reading some long book that kind of bored me. It was difficult to read it- the writing was special, curved, the words spelt strangely. I got the basic idea though. It was one of the older records of Middle Earth- something about species that had been found. Other 'men'. Someone had just recorded every last myth, story and rumour they'd been told and had sorted it into race specific groups. It couldn't have been fully accurate either- when I came to the part about Elves there were several references to them being cannibals or sleeping with their daughters. That to look upon a bathing elf maiden in a river would blind a man and curse his line to have blind children. Stupid things. The kinds of things that showed that some people had been pretty ignorant about Elves.

But then, I supposed most humans didn't actually get to meet an Elf, so rumours like these probably floated around all over the place.

A soft snort from the door made me jump. Irati stood there, arms crossed, a canvus bag in one hand.

"It's fine." I said, quietly, before she could open her mouth.

"Here." Irati held the bag out to me. "Food."

"I had some lunch..." I took it, arm sagging as the heavy bag was dropped into my hand, and opened it. Fresh fruit and vegetables A lot of it, actually.

"You eat two apples a day, two carrots, and six strawberries." Irati kept her voice soft, to my surprise, but she came in and shut the door. "So eat some now. Those are the first strawberries of spring. You are lucky- it is a good time of year to be pregnant."

If she said so.

"I will remain too." Irati added, sitting down in the chair across the room, and crossed her arms. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "You should not be alone with him."

"Legolas is within ear range."

"You should not be alone with the Prince Legolas either." Irati scolded. "Till you marry through the customs of Gondor. I will be an escort at all times."

Oh bloody hell. I needed that time. I made a mental note to talk to Aragorn about this as soon as possible.

Irati pulled out some fabric and started to sew, this presence in the room that I couldn't avoid noticing, and I found myself staring at Boromir a hell of a lot less now.

When he woke, I felt it, and our eyes met as he opened his. A slow lazy smile crossed his face, the expression of someone who had really slept, and he stretched slowly.

"My dreams were only of you and your foul mouth, my lady."

"Boromir, that is highly inappropriate. Apologise!"

The look on Boromir's face was priceless as he heard Irati. The lazy grin was wiped off his face replaced by something closer to 'Oh shit'. He sat up _fast _and slid out of my bed, this guilty look all over his face, though he crossed his arms and tried to hide it. "Tis not as bad as …"

"Sleeping in an unmarried woman's bed!"

"She offered and besides, she is marri-"

"Not in our customs and not to you!" Irati slammed her bag, the one with knives and all, across his head. Boromir yelped and backed off, hands up, the elderly woman approaching him. "As you know! The reputation of Gondor's Princess should be held intact!"

Yeah, apparently I was a virgin waiting to be wed, never mind the fact that I was already pregnant. I snorted softly, as Boromir met my eyes, and he grinned.

His grin got another painful sounding whack with her bag.

"She treated me with all the dignity of a lady. A drink, an apple, but..." Boromir glanced behind him at the day. "But the apple is not enough. I'm starving. What is for dinner?"

As he said this, the door opened, and three men strode in. Faramir, arms crossed, half amused and half exasperated. Aragorn and Legolas. Neither seemed that stressed though and as Irati honed in on Boromir for another whack, I swore I saw some kind of smug satisfaction on Faramir's face, like he was enjoying this. Maybe he'd been the one to send her in.

"Did you not agree to give Wenduin some time alone while she was here in her condition?" Faramir asked lightly.

"I may have suggested..."

"I believe those were your exact words." Aragorn cut in before Boromir could continue.

_In her condition_. This was how people tended to refer to my pregnancy, I noticed, and I wasn't even _showing_ yet. It was like I had the flu. Faramir didn't come in though. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and glanced over his shoulder.

But no one had the effect on Boromir that Irati did right now. Irati was incredible. She fixed him with this look, this indescribable look of power that had the big man squirm. She asked, "Did you lie?"

"No..." Boromir muttered sheepishly. He actually slumped down in a chair with that guilty child expression. "But-" He actually glanced over his shoulder at the window as if tempted to climb back out again. "I had to apologise."

"Then sleep in her bed."

"I did offer..."

No one seemed to listen to me. Apparently this wasn't relevant.

I crossed my arms now as Irati continued, "And sneak in here while her fiance was just two rooms away! Like a barbarian! Come. I have in mind exactly your punishment and will make sure that all your friends see it."

"I am a grown man of forty and one and the Captain of Gondor. I cannot be seen being punished..."

"And you may think of this as you are made to clean each and every chamberpot within the soldier barracks within Minas Tirith." Irati grasped him by the ear, even though she was a good foot smaller than him, and literally dragged the big man towards the door.

A guard rushed in, sudden, and froze a few feet in. Excitement was across his face, his voice ringing out as he called, "My Lord! Gandalf sends for the Fellowship! Frodo awakens!"

* * *

A/N Hey guys. :D NaNoWriMo is coming up and I may write slower during November. Maybe not! Maybe I'll write even MORE (as I struggle with writer's block with whatever I'm writing. lol)


	23. Reunion

Before Frodo was 'dressing'. I was only slightly amused when Legolas said something about needing to change clothing. It wasn't just him- all of a sudden everyone seemed to be eyeballing their clothing. For some reason this event wasn't casual dress. It apparently was formal.

I waited as the others left, Aragorn, Boromir escaping with a backward glance, and when Legolas shut the doors to 'our' room I felt relief. Not regret, not pity, just relief that he wasn't here. Oh- I was happy to have seen him and to have at least puzzled out SOME of the mystery around his behavior. Sure. Very happy.

I was _more_ happy to be alone with Legolas once again.

"Lock it." I said quietly, as he twisted the handle, and Legolas glanced backwards at me. "Please."

Legolas twisted the key in the door handle with a very satisfying click. Oh yes. That felt good. I was tempted to ask him to 'do it again'. He raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"Just wanted time alone with you."

"We were meant to have the day together." Legolas agreed quietly. He turned to the lock and to my amazement, he actually twisted the key twice without me even having to have asked, before he took the key out of the door and slid it into a pocket in those plain pants of his. "Tomorrow. I will lock the door."

"Promise ?"

"None shall disturb us." Legolas smiled somewhat. "Let me dress for Frodo."

He went into the 'bathing room' and started to open a couple of the little chests there as I followed. They were clearly for him.

"You live with me." I said softly. Why did this surprise me? Except, of course, for how he'd spent so much time separate. I added quickly, so my surprise didn't show, "Why are you changing?"

"I do not wish to be seen in this." He responded. Legolas' was carefully sorting through fabric that I hadn't even known he'd had. He looked fine to me. Yeah- it was the usual Minas Tirith style. Pretty much what you'd see on any man. And maybe from a very far distance Legolas might even be mistaken for a regular man. But ...to be perfectly honest Legolas could have worn a potato sack and he'd still look like a beautiful glowing unearthly creature. Even from a distance. But I wasn't going to be picky.

"You want to look pretty?" I teased, as he stripped off the plain shirt, and watched as he headed for that tiny storage room in my 'bathroom'. I followed. To my surprise he actually had his own chest of stuff in there. "Are all your things here?"

"We share these chambers and I trust you with my bow." Legolas slid his fingers over something. I moved closer as he lifted it up. It was literally his Lothlorien bow, wrapped up loosely in fabric, and without a single scratch. Where was mine? "It is not about being 'pretty. Frodo has saved the world from evil."

This apparently should have explained his desire to dress up. It didn't. I glanced down at my dark blue tunic and the grey pants, wondering if I should put on a dress or something, and as I opened my mouth to ask Legolas answered.

"You are beautiful as you are. I will dress to match you." He gazed up at me, bent over his chest of goodies, and there wasn't any sense of teasing. Just genuine affection.

As he stood, he slid something to one side, and I let my eyes drift down him. Hair. I had to find hair on him. I slid down, to his surprise, kneeling in front of him. This was not as good an idea as I had hoped- my leg buckled and I had to keep my bad leg weightless- but as I gazed up the expression on his face made the effort worth it.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking something." I kept my tone light and innocent, grinning at him, and slid my fingers up his chest. I was rewarded by his hitch of breath, the sudden intense stare, as if the sheer touch of my fingertips was enough to trigger that side of him. As I slid my fingers lower, heading for the waistband of his drawstring pants, Legolas grasped my arm, suddenly, but he didn't seem to know if he was going to push my hand away or to pull me closer.

I slid the tie loose, slowly, and slid my fingers down. Now. Elves. Hair. Hair. Ha... as I grasped him, he shut his eyes, dropping the fabric in his hand.

"Elves don't have hair?"

"Only on our head." He responded, shutting his eyes as I slid my fingers lower still and to his thighs, and I wondered why I hadn't noticed this before. Probably because it hadn't occurred to me to look or care.

"Must be strange... that I did before."

"I did not mind. Before?" He blinked through the haze of lust, gazing at me, and before I could react I felt him push my tunic to one side and slide his hand down. Legolas had caught on fast. The look on his face was priceless as I felt his fingers graze bare skin where there'd once been something else. "Where is it?"

"Gone."

"I want to see." Legolas was sliding his fingers lower, across the top of my thighs, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Legs too?"

"Everywhere. But... _Frodo_, Leggy."

I may have as well said that the world was exploding because this was clearly not something he cared about right now. Legolas dropped the chest with a bang, crawling over me, pushing me onto my back on the cold stone as he slid his hands to my waist. With a quick tug the pants were gone. Literally thrown to one side.

Legolas murmured something in Elvish as he stared down at me. I thought he'd laugh. Instead, he seemed kind of surprised, pleased even. Okay then. I supposed this was something I'd try and keep up. I shut my eyes as I felt his finger slide up my bare leg, slowly, and then shivered when a mouth started to kiss its way up the other leg.

"Let us dress. I will … explore later."

I felt disappointment drift through me as he slid up slowly, watching him, but he was already turning back to the chest and lifting it. I sat up slowly and tugged the pants back over. Not fair. "_Later_?"

"Frodo."

I got it suddenly. He was teasing me. There was a twitch of his lip as he caught the expression on my face. I grabbed him, kissing him hard, pulling him back down.

"Poor old Elf, too tired? Need a nap?"

We mock-struggled against each other, laughing as neither seemed to know who was 'in charge', bodies bumping and lips bruising as I kissed him hard. 'Rushing' made it even harder to resist laughing, at least until he grabbed my legs and managed to get himself inside.

After I sat up slowly,sliding up with his help to get my leggings back on, and waited as he started to sort through his clothing for the perfect outfit.

Legolas held something out to me. It was light blue. I took it and he moved closer, on his knees still, leaning against my stomach, his ear against it. He slid my own tunic up, exposing the matching pale blue lining underneath the dark blue, and out of his way, my pants down, so he could get to my bare skin. I watched, breathing in slowly, sliding my fingers into his hair as he shut his eyes.

"Can you hear it?"

"I hear everything. Give me your weight a moment so your leg may rest. We have probably tired it." He responded softly, sliding his arm around my lower back, shifting closer so I was leaning against him. Legolas slid his fingers across my stomach, slowly, and pressed against the bare skin. He blinked, and said something in Elvish slowly, his hand freezing over a specific spot. Legolas slowly pressed against it. "I hear more happening now than last I tried. Our son is growing faster than my sister did."

"He is? How do you know?"

"My mother allowed me to follow my sister's growth. She was not felt in my mother's stomach until a month later. Here." Legolas took my hand and guided it to a spot. He pressed my fingers in, slowly, and I inhaled sharply as I felt it.

Oh my god.

Some lump. Sort of. I was always kind of big down there, even after getting fitter over the past few months, but there was this obvious kind of tenseness. Resistance. This was not normal for a girl who was usually a bit soft in the tummy. I ran my fingers up and down my lower stomach, digging in only a tiny bit, amazed. Hard. Soft. Hard. Soft. Was it not showing as much because I was already big in the tummy? Or was this normal? I didn't know! Where was the internet when I needed it!

"He moves when you do that." Legolas said quietly. He shut his eyes and pressed his head against the side of my stomach, as I felt it, awe filling me and him. It occurred to me that it was the first time I'd really 'felt' emotions Legolas was feeling for weeks. Something between us had dropped. Was it my doing or his? He tightened his arms around my thighs, hugging me hard against him, and suddenly I wanted to cry and ravish him. Do both at once. That would be fun. Well, okay, it'd scare him a little but...

I sank down beside him, Legolas loosening his arms a moment, and leaned against him. "He's really in there, isn't he?"

"More and more."

"I'll need to learn Elvish." Just to talk with my baby. So he couldn't swear at me in Elvish … or something. Did Elves even swear? I twisted his head towards mine, kissing him, not caring. He leaned his forehead against mine. A feeling of warmth flooded over me, comfort, the sense of being complete again.

"You have let me in again."

"What?"

"Into your heart." Legolas said softly. He slid his hands under my tunic to rest on my waist, thumbs brushing backwards and forwards over the waistband. "I was shut out. You have shut me out more and more."

"I have? I mean, I did?" Have meant right now. Did meant the past. Guilt crept up and the warmth faded somewhat. Legolas actually tightened his grip on my waist like I was slipping away, tugging me harder against him.

"Boromir confuses you. I feel it. You draw away from me." Legolas muttered. A knock at the door explained why he'd suddenly spoken softly. He sighed, reaching out to grasp the blue shirt from my hand, and went to tug it over his head. There was sudden insecurity, so unexpected, so unmatching to Legolas' usual 'aloof confidant Elf' thing, that it took me back. Eyes looked away, not meeting mine, his hands dropping from me. "I fear he is taking you away."

Oh crap. "Legolas, no! Okay, yeah, I worry about things, and ...Boromir worries about the same things but..." I grasped his face, twisting it up towards me, "He's not taking me anywhere. You are. To your home, remember?"

Legolas didn't get far with dressing. I yanked the tunic back, throwing it over my shoulder, and kissed Legolas hard. He only hesitated a moment before he returned it, helping me stand, hands grasping my face as he kissed me again and again.

"What do you worry about?"

"You dying when I do! You know I'm mortal and-" I sighed and cut off that line of conversation. Why didn't he get that part? I felt like he hadn't accepted it. Accepted that I only barely more than any other mortal woman here. Was this because Aragorn lived a long time?

A knock distracted both of us. Oh yeah. Frodo. Legolas frowned and dropped his head against mine, once more, his forehead against mine. "Wendy, you are more than mortal. Do not worry. There will be a long life for us both and we will both live to see our son a man. Aragorn waits. Come- we are expected. " His head twisted to the door as it cracked open.

"Why, was it a vision you had?"

"Nay, it is a feeling. You and I will not be parted until it is time for I to leave for the Undying Lands. Then, I will take you, and we will live our lives in peace." He believed it. Every single word.

I wanted to cry. Or vomit. Both felt like a great idea. A feeling. He was so confidant in the belief that I'd live. But it'd take what, a hundred years, even fifty, before this baby was a grown man? Elf? Whatever.

The horrible truth was that Boromir was right. Legolas had no clue. Or if he did, he refused to admit it. My heart sank and suddenly I wanted to cry. He was incredible, smart, sweet, watchful, and ...in complete denial. I was completely in love with someone who thought I'd live for hundreds of years with him. Okay. I might live the rest of my life with him, fifty or sixty years, and … some part of me was okay with that. I would have married him knowing what it was, knowing that was what I was going into, because after all... wouldn't marrying someone else mortal be the same thing?

After all, wouldn't any other husband die?

But then, a 'normal' relationship would involve adult children, and how old would my baby be when we died in fifty or sixty years?

What about Gimli? How could Legolas do the Gimli and Legolas stuff if I'd killed him off so fast? What had I done! Just by coming here...

Anxiety rose. Anxiety and _vomit_. As I twisted to vomit, Aragorn made a soft noise of pity, and Legolas backed up carefully. Fingers slid into my hair and lifted it back, stroking the back of my neck and my ears gently, Legolas remaining close until it was all up.

"Tis normal for a woman." Aragorn spoke from the door. Second time for him to smell that. Poor man. "Is that why you took so much time? Boromir believed you may need sweet to taste for the condition."

Suddenly I hated Boromir. Irrational, maybe, but any kind of pity or anything just vanished out the window. So what if he was right? About strawberries, about my worry over Legolas and aging, and ...well, stuff. So what? He shouldn't have been saying anything about it to me to begin with. Stupid... vomit... man.

As my stomach relaxed, I sighed and stood up, the comforting hand sliding down my back and resting there. "Are you all right?"

"It must not taste nice and dinner is yet some time off. Here." Aragorn was offering me something. Grapes? No, strawberries. I opened my eyes and gazed down at the little pink ones. "They are the first ripe."

I bit into them as Legolas dressed, pretending they were Boromir's head, and watched as Aragorn helped Legolas hurry.

Once he was all pretty, braids perfect once more, satisfied that he was going to look even more unearthly and beautiful, the three of us headed outside once again. The sun was getting low in the sky now. The sun? As if I cared about that. Something might have happened to Frodo, which I may have caused, and I was also screwing up Legolas' fate.

Frodo was two buildings away. He was tucked in against the edge of the platform- at the far end of a tiny garden courtyard that sat between the wall of the Hall and his building. There, almost everyone was gathered, everyone dressed in the best clothing they could find. Or, in the case of the hobbits, the cleanest.

It was such a simple little place compared to mine that I had to admit I relaxed again. Hard to not relax in a garden filled with fragrant flowers and hobbits that were cracking jokes.

"He will be awake within the hour. Before the sun sets." Gandalf said softly, gentle, and there was geninue relief and peace on his face. "Do not go too far. We will eat dinner here."

"Before dinner? He's joining us?" Merry asked hopefully.

"I believe so." Aragorn responded from where he leaned against the wall. He was peeling off an apron. A literal apron. It was over his beautiful velvet clothing. "I have tended to him one last time. Faramir has already set aside a special feast for us. And Sam has prepared something special."

Sam nodded. His gaze was distant though, at his hands, and he didn't seem able to speak at a normal level. "I thought Fr... Mr. Frodo might awaken to the smell of cooking. Make it easier. He has not had a decent meal for too long."

"No, but he has had food, and your broth, and is already gaining weight." Gandalf placed a hand gently on Sam's shoulder. "He will awaken."

"How do you know?" Pippin moved across the little courtyard to sit beside me in the sunshine, his feet clean and washed, his clothing stain free.

"Aragorn knows. I will sit with him. Sam?" Gandalf looked to where Sam sat. It was the first time I'd seen Sam for days. Sam was surprisingly composed. "Do you want to sit with Frodo?"

"I think..." Sam hesitated. He gazed at us all, slowly, and said softer, "I think I might just sit here a moment. In the sunshine. If that's all right by you."

"If that's what you want." Gandalf chuckle softly. He nodded to me. "I am sorry I have not spoken to you."

"You had to watch out for Frodo." The thought, the doubt, that perhaps... that maybe Frodo had endured worse somehow, it drifted across my mind. I smiled weakly. Sam and Gandalf had both more or less vanished to spend all their time with Frodo. I told myself off for the negative thoughts. Silly me. Okay. Big smile.

"When he has awoken, you and I will talk properly." Gandalf rested his hand on my shoulder. "I promise."

He wasn't quite awake yet. Gandalf was inside the little bedroom with him. I hadn't realised it earlier, when I'd 'seen it', but when I glanced in I was surprised and amused to see that the entire room was hobbit sized. The bed, the chairs, even the chest of drawers. There was a little mirror.

"Did this all get made for him?" I asked Aragorn/

He had moved to sit on the ground against the wall. Twisting around to peer in through the door, Aragorn smiled, and nodded as he rested back on the ground. "I believe so."

"We got hobbit sized beds too." Pippin spoke up. "You haven't seen them yet, have you?"

"Dwarf size too."

"And strength." Legolas cut in, Merry sniggering, and the elf shot a teasing look at Gimli. Gimli snorted and ignored him.

"He broke one of the beds made for him. Middle of the night. BOOM. Dwarf, cursing, waking everyone up, shards of wood in his-"

"Merry." Boromir aimed a kick for him. "Language."

"So they got a spare one. And... same night, same thing." Merry whispered to me. "Then the next one. So they made a strong one out of metal."

I laughed at that. I felt Legolas come to stand beside me, felt more than saw, his side against my side. Tucking some hair behind my head I gazed sideways and up at him, his grey eyes meeting mine, and as I smiled, he mirrored it with his own genuine warm smile. I could still feel him on my skin, still taste him, and … it made me feel so content. I could have curled up in the sunshine like a lazy cat.

Okay, yeah, I was worried too. But right now? Sunshine, contentment, and a sense of being all satisfied. I could sense the same from him. Literally the same. Contentment, warmth, but also a trace of anxiousness. I hoped it wasn't because of my anxiety.

He slid an arm around my shoulders, drawing me close, kissing me gently. I leaned against him and avoided Boromir's eyes. I could feel them on me. I shut my eyes and focused on Legolas. The warm sunlight. The laughter of Merry and Pippin as they joked around, teasing each other, harassing Gimli.

Occasionally we'd hear Frodo talk. I'd open my eyes, everyone would stand, several times Pippin and Merry would rush up onto the balcony and open the door a little. Three times, same enthusiasm, and it was usually a false alarm. Not quite yet.

This continued for a while. It was late in the afternoon, the sunlight streaming down against the little courtyard, when we heard something.

"Gandalf?"

Like every other time, it was Merry and Pippin who rushed up onto the balcony and pressed against the door, pressing their ears to it, Pippin's hand ready on the handle once more. Everyone had frozen, waiting, Gimli mid-puff on his pipe, Aragorn raising his head, and …

Gandalf started to laugh.

Legolas met eyes, his smile widening, and he squeezed me before releasing me. "It is time."

Sam froze.

"_Go_!" Merry hissed at Pippin.

Pippin and Merry charged in at Frodo.

"Frodo!"

Gimli wasn't far behind, literally dropping his pipe as he charged up the steps, Frodo's relieved 'Gimli' echoing out.

I followed the calmer Legolas up the steps of the balcony. Funny- it was only now that I realised he'd more or less changed outfits for this. When? Who knew. He did a lot of surprising things.

He froze in front of me, staring inside, moving inside slowly. It was almost like he was trying to keep a measure of calm after Gimli and the hobbits had charged in. I wanted to charge in. I grinned, Frodo's stunned face meeting mine, moving to stand beside Legolas. I felt shy suddenly. Why? No clue.

Gimli actually was crying, I realised, as I stood between him and Legolas. He kept sniffing and dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve.

The look on Frodo's face when Boromir strode in, right behind Aragorn, made the whole ordeal with Boromir worth it. That was right. He'd believed Boromir was dead too. No hate, no fear, just sheer relief as he gasped, "Boromir!"

Boromir stood beside Aragorn, grinning,like he'd just played the best prank ever on Frodo. But when he glanced sideways at me... it faltered. Was it because I'd kissed Legolas? I suspected so.

Oh _fucking hell_. Frodo was awake and ... I kept my smile on but Legolas was right. I had to stop … I had to keep away from him a while

"What happened!" Pippin threw up his arms as he threw himself back onto the bed, laughing, and adding, "We saw walking trees!"

Gandalf laughed, leaning back, a low relieved sigh as Frodo tried to speak. He cut in- "Do not trouble Frodo right now with stories. He will be too hungry to speak."

Sam slid in, slowly, and kept his distance. But he was smiling, Frodo and him suddenly only for eyes for one another once again, and I wondered... I grinned. Who knew. He met Frodo's eyes and they gazed at one another a long time.

"Tell him what we've been doing, Pip!"

"Well." Pippin laughed, throwing himself onto his side, Merry bouncing up and down. "You won't believe the adventures we've had."

"I bet he will..."

Pippin started to fill Frodo in about our fight against the Uruk Hai, after Frodo had run, as we all found a place to sit down, chairs being dragged around th bed from a table nearby. Only Legolas decided to stand beside the wall next to me and Gimli. Sam slid down to sit beside Frodo on the bed, watching quietly, the two of them pressed against each other.

"Oh, food." Sam blinked. The daze he was in seemed to vanish somewhat. "I had something special for everyone warming beside the fire..."

"Where are the bowls?" Boromir asked, standing, "I will help."

The smell of chicken filled the air as Sam lifted a very large heavy pot up from the coals and set it on the table at the edge of the room. Boromir's face was tense even for his smile. I knew him well enough to know that. I felt Legolas reach out to touch my arm, his fingertips brushing against the inside of my arm gently, as if he was aware of what was happening inside my head. Maybe Legolas did know.

"Did you really, Wenduin?"

I blinked, as Frodo's soft voice cut in, and turned to see Merry, Pippin and Frodo staring at me. "What?"

"Marry Legolas in Lothlorien! Why didn't you tell anyone?" Frodo laughed, sitting up, and as tired as he was I'd never seen him happier. Never in my life. "We could have celebrated."

"Well, Legolas didn't actually tell me we'd married until Rohan." I admitted. This statement made Boromir stiffen, Gimli laugh, Aragorn shake his head, and clearly only added to Frodo's amusement. Legolas squeezed my arm gently before he released it again, only to come to stand closer to my back, close enough to feel his stomach brush against my arm.

"_And_," Pippin continued as if this was the best part of his whole story. "She's pregnant."

"What!" Sam nearly dropped the pile of plates he was carrying to the table from a cabinet. "She is?"

I rolled my eyes at that.

"But what happened? I heard Boromir was dead!"

"First, I think..." Gandalf cut in before the other two could start, his voice that perfect measure of amused calm. He gazed to Sam who was opening the big metal pot's lid. A rush of hot steam and roast chicken smell rushed out. "Frodo should be allowed to bathe and dress before we get into the stories. Sam, can that roast wait?"

"It could do with a few minutes more, I think." Sam agreed, prodding it, wrinkling his face in concentration. "The taters need a while yet."

"Good. Tonight, we will stay together, and talk. Boromir, I think a few bottles of that wine we've saved should be right, and Aragorn?"

"I'll bring the goblets and the cake."

"Cake?"

Gandalf's smile widened at Merry's interest. "We have decided tonight is for the Fellowship alone. Half an hour and we will meet here once more."

"Okay. Wendy! Come on,." Pippin slid to his feet in a hurry and grabbed my hand. "We've got our own treats for tonight. Come help us bring them."

"Um, okay." I followed them, half dragged out of there, towards the kitchen. Luckily my leg held up their enthusiasm. When we rushed back, arms full of some kind of food hidden within a couple of little bags, Legolas was waiting for me outside. Aragorn was smoking with Gimli further along in a kind of small garden, relaxing in the late afternoon sunshine, the smell of food starting to really waif out of the room.

I could hear Sam talking with Gandalf now, louder, something about how he knew food would wake Frodo.

"He is bathing." Legolas took the sack from me and held it out to Merry. "Wendy can come with me for a walk."

Ah, yeah, I didn't need to see that. For some reason Pippin and Merry went in anyway, not even without a hesitation, and I followed Legolas to stand with Aragorn and Gimli.

We relaxed beside them, I found a step to sit down in the little green area, the smoke no longer bothering me. The grass was soft under my feet, the smell of something sweet nearby, and when I went to sniff a flower, I found it was the most innocent looking yellow flower that created this strong scent.

"Tis jasmine." Aragorn came to sit down beside me. He put his pipe down and reached out to pick some, gently sliding a few pieces into the back of my hair, before he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"I can't believe we all made it." I said quietly. Everyone.

Holy crap. Frodo was alive. Everyone was okay.

Tension faded from my body and I let Aragorn hug against my side, listening to Gimli and Legolas start up a conversation about the most basic, most casual thing, some random half-hearted argument about whether dwarves or Elves were better pipe makers. I didn't know Elves even smoked.

"Do Elves smoke?" I asked Araogrn, who had raised his pipe back up, and he shook his head.

"No, but many an Elf craft is traded with men. Rivendell and Lothlorien do not trade but the Elves of Mirkwood have long had a trading relationship with the villages around them. The weed grown by Elves is treasured."

Oh_, I bet it was_. But it was good news. Legolas' elves, as I'd started to think of them, were kind of used to men? "I won't be a big shock."

"You will not be the first woman within Mirkwood, no, and many Elves will not be shocked by you. Not until they hear of your marriage will you need to worry."

This got Legolas' attention and his smile faded somewhat, as he and Aragorn locked eyes, Gimli's joke fading somewhat about 'length of pipes' or 'thickness' or something. Legolas said quietly, "There is nothing to worry over."

Aragorn didn't respond. Instead he just took another long inhale of his pipe smoke and gazed back out across the landscape, free arm still over me, and I gazed out in the same direction. The sunset was incredible, rich peach, purple, pinks, oranges, probably enhanced by the volcanic dust still in the air. Mount Doom had been erupting for some time. It was a miracle the wind hadn't blown the dust this way.

Or was it?

"Can Gandalf affect the way the wind blows?"

"I do not know." Aragorn replied.

I kind of suspected he could. Or if not him, someone, and it may have been why we hadn't been covered in volcanic ash. Or maybe not everything was about magic. Maybe it was just luck. Who knew.

"Come on! Sam's cooked us roast chicken." Pippin shouted. We turned, his excitement having him nearly trip as he skidded across to us, apparently not just content with shouting. "Salt. From the shire! He carried it all the way to Mordor!"

"From the shire? That's great." It was impossible to not smile, as Pippin grabbed my hand, and dragged me to my feet. Oh yeah. Sam had lugged a little container of seasoning across Middle Earth. I was amazed he still had it. I nearly fell over as Pippin started to pull me back towards the house.

"Careful, she's injured." Aragorn stood up too, easily steadying me as I wobbled, before we headed after him.

"You would like the shire. Food, good company, the weather's warm and green grass everywhere. No one wears shoes." Pippin looked down over his shoulder at my bare feet, which were obvious under the baggy dark grey pants, and he nodded as if this was the best choice of footwear he'd ever seen. "I never saw so many shoes as I have here."

He was continuing on this as all of us sat around a table inside Frodo's building. Big and little chairs crowded in, somehow the right size for everyone, Frodo sitting in the middle of it all and looking both exhausted and overwhelmed. But happy. Somehow that one chicken was divided up amongst the ten of us, though I noticed Sam gave Frodo more than the rest, and food started to appear. Aragorn headed outside with Boromir at one point, as we ate the chicken and talked, both of them returning with great platters of food. Nothing that fancy but it was amazing and hot.

It was mostly Pippin and Merry who talked. Aragorn gor a word in, here and there, but they started to recount everyone's adventure for Frodo as fast as possible, twisting and mixing it up as they ate, at one moment Aragorn, apparently dead, was riding to Helm's Deep... and the next, we were in Fangorn and Merry and Pippin had lost me.

"You left Wendy behind!"

"It was so dark, see, and we couldn't tell if those feet were Wendy or Orc." Merry glanced at me with an apologetic smile. "Figured we'd hear if the Orc got her first."

"Yeah and come back for her."

"But the Orc missed her."

It was bloody lucky it had too. I doubted I'd have lasted three seconds with a blood thirsty orc. I felt a hand squeeze my leg and was tempted to shove it off. A quick glance relaxed me- it was Legolas- but with Boromir on my other side I felt crushed suddenly. A little crowded.

This wasn't unnoticed by Legolas. Of course not. He slid his arm around my shoulder once more, drawing me into his side, and I tried to ignore the flash of something across Boromir's face. Should I have ...been kinder? I didn't know. He got up, sudden, and headed outside with a goblet of food, muttering something about needing to smoke and not wanting to do it in such a crowded place.

"He must get used to it." Legolas said softly against my ear, arm tight, but his fingers gently stroking my arm through the fabric. "Soon you will have a curve that he cannot ignore."

He was right, of course, but I didn't relax for some time. When I looked like I was carting a baby around then Boromir would have no choice but to face it. I hoped he was okay though. I could see him there- just in the courtyard, the glow of the pipe in his hand, and he just … stood there. Outside a storm was starting to rise, wind dancing around the building, rain occasionally falling in hard bursts on the roof.

"Stop jumping!" Sam's voice cut in. It was the loudest he'd been all evening. Everyone froze to stare at him, and I grinned, his face was red and his cheeks splotchy. He'd been drinking a little more than he'd eaten. "Just tell Mr. Frodo from start to finish. You're confusing him _and_ me!"

"Let me tell Frodo." Gandalf cut in. He'd sat there, laughing and smiling away in the corner side the window, this picture of calm as he puffed away. Now he leaned forward, voice rising, easily cutting over every other sound. The wind, the rain, as both increased, we barely noticed. As tired as Frodo was, he was captured by the story, and I had to admit I was too. Particularly as I hadn't been there for all of it. Gandalf didn't do all the talking. At some point Aragorn took over for himself, Gimli and Legolas, while Boromir seemed to cheer up long enough to add his own comments. The wine in his hand was probably helping- Either he wasn't drinking, which I doubted from how red his forehead was getting, or he kept topping it up.

I didn't know how much of our stories Frodo was actually able to take in, he seemed overwhelmed, but he was at least laughing and smiling. As the wine came out, the ale, the conversations started to get a little more... random. We managed to reach the last battle, more or less, but Gimli was pretty much drunk by now and Boromir was once again right behind him.

"I love you. All of you." Pippin exclaimed, during his recreation speech and act about his part of the battle for Minas Tirith, slumping down. He'd already said it twice before. This time though he was adding visual effects to the story.

"No, I love you." Merry retorted, leaning against Pippin, his eyes shut as he grasped onto a goblet. It was empty or he'd have spilt it all over his clean stuff. "Warrior Pip."

"Warrior Merry."

Wind gushed in, suddenly, as Gimli headed for the door. Boromir was quick to join him with an open stare at Legolas and myself. Legolas had not let go of me. If anything, the more Boromir drank, the more Legolas hung on. Now he released me a moment, drinking from a drink, his eyes down and face calm.

I knew better. Boromir was getting drunk again. Hell, everyone was a bit off their face right now, but the last time Boromir had drunk? Legolas could pretend to be 'calm' all he liked. I suspected he was doing his superhero hearing thing as he drank that wine.

"Relax." I said softly, very softly, brushing my leg against his tense thigh.

A knock at the door made Aragorn rise up slowly and open it. The wind gushed in beautifully now, bringing in a cold wind that made me shifer, and I watched as Aragorn and a man clad in that silver metal armour speak briefly. Faramir was with him.

I tensed.

Was it Boromir? Already? He'd been gone two minutes and …

Aragorn didn't seem concerned.

"Lord Elrond has arrived. He does not expect for Aragorn to come tonight." It was Legolas turn to relax me. His hand brushed against mine.

I sighed and went back to eating cake. Yummy cake. Natural food dye even. Who knew that Middle Earth could have cake? "Good."

"Faramir has already had Boromir taken to his home. They were waiting."

Oh, I bet they were after last time. Elrond was pretty fast to have come though. "He must have rushed here."

"He was prepared, I believe, with his kin, and waiting for the outcome not far from Minas Tirith."

This was news to me. I blinked and tried to search what memories I had about this. Was there anything in there about this? Not that I could remember. So either this was new, that Lord Elrond had come and waited for the battle to be over, or I didn't remember it. I didn't know everything after all.

Having a full tummy also didn't help. Brain did not want to focus.

Aragorn came back over and rested back down on his chair with a heavy sigh, patting his bloated stomach, resting back. He was also a little buzzed, he'd not quite walked in a straight line, but at least he seemed to more or less be mentally here still.

"Glad he's not expecting you tonight?"

"I can barely walk straight. Lord Elrond seeing me in this state..." Aragorn chuckled and rubbed his head. He eyed the drink and then my goblet of water. "Can you spare a glass? I would talk with him tomorrow with a lighter head. I believe he wishes to speak to you as well, Wenduin."

I poured him a glass and slid it across.

Boromir didn't return. I ended up lounged against Legolas, no big surprise, against the floor as Merry and Pippin tried to show off their sword skills to an increasingly half-asleep Frodo. Sam seemed to be alert to everything Frodo did- he'd bring him water, food, always there. Gimli laughed, joining in, retelling the tales of every Orc he had killed.

It was late when everyone started to go their separate ways. Sort of. Gimli was fast asleep and snoring against the chair he'd fallen off, Frodo had been more or less carried to bed by Sam, and Pippin was being covered by a blanket by Merry, who took one long glance at the door before he collapsed beside his friend.

Gandalf caught my eye and stood, subtle, but his meaning clear. It was time for the two of us to talk. Legolas released me slowly, his eyes on my back as I followed Gandalf into another smaller room, and I expected to stop there or for Legolas to follow.

We didn't stop and Legolas didn't follow.

"Come." Gandalf said softly, hand on my arm, and guided me out a side door into the pouring rain. No magic powers stopping the rain from pouring on us- we just hurried with our feet sliding somewhat on the wet stone. It was difficult to do, I grasped onto the walking stick, following behind the old wizard.

When we reached my room, Gandalf moved past it to a small library, and when I was inside he shut the doors securely. Darkness cut across the room- the lights from the halls outside vanished.

"Forgive me for asking you to walk all the way out but we have privacy here." Gandalf moved across the room, lighting candles, the little book filled room slowly warming up once more. He gestured to a chair and I sunk into it. "Lord Elrond will need to speak with you tomorrow. It seemed wise to speak to you first."

That sounded sort of ominous. I shifted, tense, waiting for ...well, I wasn't sure. "What kinds of things will he speak to me about?"

"Leaving Middle Earth."

Reality struck me hard. The words, three words, and somehow they just knocked the entire world out from under my feet. Gandalf didn't look at me, he was gazing out the window, but I knew where his focus was. That was right. I didn't come from here. I didn't belong here.

"Leaving."

"The baby complicates this. I do not know if Lord Elrond kn-"

"He does."

Smooth, calm voice, and not at all unexpected. Not really. Lord Elrond was sliding in through the previously closed doors, so silent, so strange to me, that I suddenly realised how MUCH Legolas had let his guard down. Sure- he still had that Elf thing happening, but nothing close to Elrond. In the warmth of the candles, his dark hair glinted, the traces of grey showing, and for all the signs of 'aging' he was clearly no closer to being like me than he had been when I'd first met him.

His robes were stained with mud, wet, hair slightly askew, and as he moved closer I caught the distinct scent of horses. It meant he'd literally not even bothered to change.

"So, you are now pregnant. With Legolas' child?" It was more of a statement than a question but still. It kind of bothered me that he'd even have to ask.

"Yeah."

"This was not ...expected." Elrond muttered. He stared over me to Gandalf, his face not giving away anything, and he moved past me to speak to Gandalf. In Elvish. I gritted my teeth and tried to not ...demand him to speak so I could understand too. Their tones grew slightly more... intense. Loud. Was it an argument or just a heated debate?

Course it was about me. They kept glancing at me.

The two of them spoke for a good ten minutes while I stood there, feeling awkward, watching the candles slowly melt and drip down the candle holders. The door opened again, silent, quiet, and I turned to see Arwen.

Oh yeah. Arwen was here.

"Do not tell Aragorn that I have come." She said softly. Even Arwen had 'masks' on but … but truthfully, she was closer to Legolas for me. As she slipped in I saw something. Compassion. She actually slid her arm around mine and her hand into mine. As Elrond turned, she spoke in Elvish, spoke with a kind of soft passion that made his eyes soften. Then, as she met my eyes, she added, "I told them to speak to you as well."

"There is not much else to say." Gandalf sighed. He came across to me slowly. "You should not have married Legolas."

"Well, I didn't know it was marriage, and-"

"You did not know?"

This clearly was something I should not have said. I shut my mouth as Elrond turned on me. "Then you have not married him in spirit? Or willingly? Do you share your body with others? Is it possible this is not the child of an Elf?"

"No! I meant that …. of course I …" Oh god, describing my sex life with Elrond. I suddenly wished Legolas was here to back me up. "I didn't do it just for fun. Of course it's his child. I just didn't know that ...that moment... was marriage. Usually there's more involved."

"With our kind as well. But the act is what creates the bond." Elrond was dismissive, staring right through me,and he turned to Gandalf. "There is little we can do but to have her birth at Rivendel. There will be too much conflict between her and Legolas Greenleaf's father to have a safe birth."

"Delay her leaving."

"She cannot remain here. This is not her world. But yes. At the end of the crowning of Aragorn she must return with myself to Rivendel. There, we will await the birth."

Hang on. What happened to Mirkwood? Baby? What about my baby? "Hang on a second, you two, what do you mean? I can't stay here?"

"You do not belong here. You should not have ...married one of our kind. Nor should you have been given a life. All these things are wrong. The fate of Legolas Greenleaf has been torn short with your own short life."

Ow. Being told this so bluntly...I swallowed. I felt Arwen's hand clutch mine, gentle, squeezing it. "I didn't … mean for that to happen. Is he going to die young?"

"I do not know. When we spoke alone last, I told you, you were not Elf. Nor are you from the world of man. You are not one of us."

Greeat. Unhelpful. "Is Legolas going to die when I do?"

"He will." This was Arwen, voice soft, her arm around mine, and the fact that she was trying to comfort me... "If he makes the choice before his kin and the Valar, he and you will live side by side, until the last days of your life."

Her attempt at comforting me was what really struck this whole situation home. Yes- I knew that no one lived forever. But some Elves, specifically, Legolas, were supposed to be doing other things. I had fifty years. Maybe sixty. "He was supposed to be off with Gimli. Doing things. Taking Gimli to the undying lands."

"That future can not happen now. Not with you and the child."

I shut my eyes. I was trying to remember 'my world'. Fast cars. Dad. Brian. Archery as a sport. It made me feel ...sad. That was all. Drained. Out of place. The baby, it wouldn't fit there, it would... "You want me to leave the baby with you?"

"When it is born, we will send word to Legolas, and he will come take his son home." Elrond's voice had softened. Maybe the Elf had a heart after all. "You need not fear for his future. He will live a long life, either as a mortal or as I did, and the choice will be his own."

I nodded, feeling my words vanish, as a lump in my throat increased. Felt Arwen squeeze my hand. Everything, except that lump, was starting to go numb. I'd only just felt that baby before. That hard lump in my tummy. I hadn't even really felt it properly and they were already suggesting... no... making it pretty obvious I had to go.

"I can't stay here?" Legs weak, I found a seat and sat in it, staring at them.

"You change too much. Do you not miss your home? Your family? Do you not recall any of it?" Elrond slid a chair across to sit in front of me.

"Do not think we are punishing you." Gandalf spoke up. He hadn't spoken. He seemed quiet though, sad even, as he moved closer to me. "Wenduin. None here doubts your contribution to the Fellowship. But you _always_ had to return."

"But I'm not the only one who sees the future." I felt helpless. Like a kid who was being told by adults what to do. They'd already decided.

"No, but the only one who changes it. This is not something the Elves could or would do. It is wrong to change paths, except in dire need."

I had more memories of Middle Earth than I did 'the other world'. Basically, I recalled two relationships, neither of them had been a joy to remember, and a career. Sort of. It was getting hard to speak. Hard to say anything. My chest was starting to feel empty. I had to leave. Now, nine months, either … either reality was going to break my heart. "I don't know. Some things."

Arwen said something softly to Elrond and Gandalf, Elvish slipping through the hair, and they nodded. I watched them retreat. Heard the lock in the door. It left the two of us alone.

"You're here for Aragorn."

"I am." Arwen agreed quietly.

"I saw our son, you know." It felt weird to talk. Like it wasn't me. I sat there, staring ahead, and I wanted to cry suddenly. "I saw him. Now you guys want me to pop him out and go somewhere I barely remember or care about."

"He made himself seen to you? I too... have seen our son." Arwen breathed out and stared ahead. "What does your heart tell you of Legolas' future?"

I wanted to stay 'STAY WITH ME'. Now, now that they were going to make it clear it wasn't going to happen, I wanted to cling to him.

"Would I really change his future by staying?"

"Yes." One word. No sugar coating. Nothing. "He would not take Gimli to the Undying lands. Nor would he heal the forests. His last days would be spent beside you. There would be many trials and conflicts, for his father also knew his future would be different, but there would be the joy between you and your child. My father spoke of this to me as we came here, hoping I would..."

"Change my mind. Didn't you change Aragorn's future?"

"Yes, and no. If the Valar gave me this son, that I will meet, then our fate was one already decided." Arwen smiled sadly. "This is one place my father struggled to see. I had long felt in my heart that it would be Aragorn. But … I could not find the strength to break my father's heart. Not until I met our child."

Great. She knew that Aragorn would be with her. She 'felt it in her heart'. And I'd … the truth was I'd always felt like … like this couldn't happen. I'd been anxious about it since ...well, literally since Lothlorien.

"I kept worrying about the future. For him. I didn't want to..." I couldn't speak.

"He is still immortal." Her words hurt. "Legolas has not lost the gift of the Elves and has not chosen to release it yet. I believe both your hearts warned you of this long before my father spoke to you."

"He hasn't..." Hurt. Relief. Anger. Hurt. I wanted to punch Boromir suddenly.

"No."

Neither of us spoke for a very long time. I couldn't speak. I hurt and my throat was too blocked up to get words out.

When Legolas climbed in the window, I was not surprised, I just met his eyes as he hoisted himself into the library. Soaking wet. Boromir must have taught him a handy trick there. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or felt worse when I saw him. He probably knew something was wrong. Hell. He always knew.

"What is wrong?" He strode across, hand on my shoulder, the rain having soaked him all the way to his pretty skin. "Lady Arwen?"

Arwen's eyes went from myself to Legolas. Something flashed across her face. Pity? "Something between us for now. Lord Legolas, you look well."

"As do you..."

"I am here in secret and remaining with Lady Wenduin. Aragorn must not know I am here. It is a ...surprise." She smiled softly, or tried to, but that pity was still there.

"You are staying with her in her chambers?"

"For a time, yes."

"You can not."

Legolas' statement made Arwen blink, and I stared at him, seeing something. A tenseness? I wasn't sure. He didn't cross his arms, he didn't grit his teeth or anything, he didn't do a childish foot stop, but … it sure as hell felt like he'd done all those things and more. No. He looked the perfect picture of Elf serenity.

"I sleep with my wife there."

"Then I will find another place." Arwen didn't even bother putting up an argument. She just nodded, adding something in Elvish, which Legolas was quick to respond to. "So long as Aragorn does not see me, I will be happy."

"He doesn't sleep far from here, I think."

"I have long learnt to hide from him." She smiled somewhat at that, at her own statement, "He will not know I am around until I am ready to be seen." Arwen seemed to wait for one of us to speak. I couldn't. Legolas didn't. She added, "I will take my leave."

I felt a wet hand slide into mine and let Legolas guide me out of the library, he only stopped long enough to take one of the candles, and out the door. I was vaguely aware that we had Elrond and Gandalf staring at us from some unseen place. Felt it even as Legolas pushed me inside my... erm, our, chambers and shut the door. Heard him lock it.

"You are upset." He turned to me, reaching up to clasp my cheek, concern on his face as his eyes searched mine.

I stared at him. I was upset. And … what if they were right? How could I speak to him about any of it? Any of it? I couldn't. Could I? It'd upset him and anyway, I wasn't sure myself, I was so damn conflicted. But I could tell him... at least part of it.

"Rivendell." I said quietly. "Lord Elrond wants me to give birth in Rivendel. Not Mirkwood."

This news did not sit well with him and only reinforced my idea to stay quiet about the rest. Legolas frowned, glancing over his shoulder, before he let me go. I watched him as he quietly moved around the room, lighting candles with the one he'd still had clasped in his other hand, our room slowly coming into view. There was already a small fire in the fireplace, burnt down, which I had to assume had been lit for me by someone.

I also noticed that the bedding had been changed. The fabric was now a light green with a dark brown cover. Was that because Boromir had slept there? Who knew. I sat down on the bed, quiet, as he sat down beside me.

"I would have wanted you to be at home. With my sister there to be beside you. I would want him to be born in the trees as I was."

He didn't even argue it, funnily enough, he just seemed to accept it. I shut my eyes as I felt some kind of sadness wash over him through our 'bond'. Was it because Lord Elrond was a Lord? Or did Legolas suspect I'd have an easier time in Rivendell than with his father, as Elrond had suggested?

I didn't want to leave Legolas. I didn't want to leave my baby. And … strangely enough, Boromir. I didn't want to leave him like this either. The whole situation seemed wrong. The thing was, it hadn't really just been me that had felt like something was wrong with this. Legolas had kept talking about having nightmares.

"Legolas. Do you still see me dying at night?"

Legolas' eyes darkened and something crossed his face again. Shutting me out. As he turned his head, hiding whatever it was that had come into his mind, I grasped his head with both hands and twisted it to face me again.

"Leggy?"

"As I told you. It is ever changing vision and nothing is clear." In other words, yes. He was still seeing me dying in all kinds of ways.

"I'm going to die." The words actually made him flinch. Legolas slid down to his knees again, staring away, as I said quieter, "You know that."

"Not for-"

"Fifty or sixty years."

"No. Tis not so short a time. I will not believe that."

"Legolas, ask anyone. Anyone. I'll be lucky to make seventy years." In this kind of world? Sure, it was beautiful, but even I knew that this was a rough world. I hated this. Hated saying this. I suddenly wished I hadn't even started the conversation. Wished I hadn't brought it up. "Will you die when I do?"

No answer for a very long time. Legolas stared forward.

"What about our baby? Gimli? You have things to do. You always did. And … if you die, who'll be there for the baby?" With a horrible heart crushing moment I realised they were right. I had already messed up so much. I still wasn't sure if Frodo was supposed to have been unconscious that long, or if the black breath was supposed to be apart of his whole illness, and … and he was right. They were all right.

Boromir was right.

And I hated him for it.

"We can't do this. Not any more. It wasn't right to begin with. You can't make that bond to me. Maybe that's why you never did." The words slipped out before I could hold them in. Words that had been waiting to come out for a very long time. Legolas didn't argue. He didn't even answer me. He just stood up, quiet, and walked out of the room.

I hadn't even thought about it before. But he hadn't. He had never actually committed to being mortal. Never accepted that it was apart of this.

I curled up in bed, shut my eyes, and tried to breathe. When I started to cry, I couldn't stop it, it was like deep hysterical sobs mixed with gasps for air, and the noise was half-drowned out by the heavy rain outside. I suddenly wanted to call Brian. I wanted to turn my phone on and call him. I didn't know why. I didn't care. I wanted ...

"And... _up_..." A soft voice and a shape hoisting himself up into the window with a heavy groan. He collapsed, lay there panting, a puddle easily spreading from his wet clothing. "Getting too old and too drunk for this. Wendy, are you crying?"

Boromir. Of _course_.

* * *

A/N: Surprise... one more chapter before Nanowrimo starts tomorrow. :)

What a place to leave it at!

There'll still be updates, of course, but as I'll be writing a novel too... for this month it may not be as speedy. :)


	24. Temptations

Wrath. Crazy angry wraith. I watched him, appearing serene and quiet as I felt this sense of pure rage well up and drown the grief, watched him stumble to the door and lock it. Wasn't even sure why he had a key. Tears kept running down my face. But … the emotion behind the tears was lost. It was buried and hidden under anger.

When Boromir turned to me and started towards me I exploded. Fists flew, I charged at him, letting it all EXPLODE everywhere. Hormones? Grief? Who the fuck cared. I caught him off guard, he backed off, hands raising, and even with my bad leg I more or less let him have whatever I'd thrown at the Orc and Uruk Hai.

I smashed a fist into his head, into his stomach, ignoring his attempts to grab my wrists and stop, and he seemed to struggle to get out of his drunken haze long enough to fight me back. Maybe he wasn't that drunk to begin with. Like I fucking cared right now. I slammed a fist into his cheek, his grunt of pain the most satisfying thing I'd heard all night, and tried to knee him between the legs. Boromir grasped my leg just in time to protect his jewels.

"What-"

Another hit to his face, to his jaw, and he stumbled back. I naturally followed, limping, ignoring the smear of blood on my hand or the droplets running down his face. Jug of water? I slammed the entire thing over his head, or tried to, but he ducked. It shattered on his shoulder instead and provoked another satisfying groan of pain.

In my anger I almost sent both of us flying out the window. Boromir managed to prevent it by grabbing into a bookcase and using the weight of it to pitch us safely backwards.

He pinned me down, grasping onto my wrists with one hand, sitting on my legs, the other hand over my mouth. Three seconds and I was stuck. I struggled, glaring up at him, trying to knee him between the legs again. His bum was planted heavy on my upper legs. I couldn't move them.

"You, woman, nearly killed both of us. Are you _mad_?"

Damn right I was mad. What the hell was he doing in here again? I breathed hard, trying to bite his hand, all the night's hurt thrown at him. His nose was bleeding. Good. When he released my wrists, I slammed a hand into him, and he grabbed them again, cursing softly. Boromir could hold me down all bloody night. I was going to be mad _forever_.

"Calm down."

I bit his hand hard, he yelped, and I hissed, "You are not supposed to be in here."

"You punched me!" He reached up to touch his face, cringing as his fingers brushed tender skin, adding, "I'm bleeding!"

"So stop sneaking into my room!" God. I wanted to be angry at him. I didn't care how much he bled. I could smell the alcohol on him but this did not provoke any kind of sympathy. The idiot had climbed up a deadly drop, drunk, and faced me. I gritted my teeth and repeated the statement. "You are not supposed to be in here. _Drunk_."

"I am not so drunk as I was last time. I came to talk with you and Legolas. Why do you cry?" Boromir's face had softened, as his eyes caught the dampness on my face, and the confusion faded. He stroked my face, ignoring my anger, his touch so gentle that it just reminded me of the way Legolas had done this. Barely minutes earlier. I felt the grief start to ebb slowly over the rage, felt my own tears threaten to come back, dampness again soaking it, and … Boromir saw it all. Of course he did. The bastard was getting too good at finding my weakness.

I hated him. Hated that he was seeing it. "Get _out_."

"Not a chance, woman. What happened?"

"_Get out or I'll scream_."

"None are here. Aragorn sleeps in with Frodo. Gandalf is there." Boromir leaned down, kissing my forehead with such tenderness, that it provoked my rage again. Asshole. Who did he think he was? "Wendy..."

"Legolas is not that far away. He'll hear." And what, beat him up? After what I'd just told him? Even as I said it I knew I wouldn't call for him. I couldn't face him tonight.

"Do you really think he'd hear over this? There is nothing to fear."

The din of the rain was loud, I had to admit that, I struggled to hear Boromir even. I shut my eyes as his hand continued to stroke my face. Tried to ignore him. I went still, quiet, mind trying to escape body. I heard him sigh softly. "I am not going to hurt you. Never would I touch you, with so much grief and sadness in your face, I could never..."

I opened my eyes, suddenly, searching his face. There wasn't any lust, there wasn't anything except faint concern, which started to trigger some guilt as I watched the blood slide down his face. "Just break into my room again."

"There were things I had to say. To you and Legolas both. But as I came to meet you, I overheard something, and so... it was more urgent. I would have knocked were it not. I overheard Gandalf speaking with Lord Elrond."

"I've already talked to them." My anger was fading. Instead I felt dull, tired, and lay there numbly, my breathing slowing. "Too late."

"I guessed." Boromir's voice had quietened too now. I felt his hand release my wrists now that I wasn't trying to kill him and I slid them free, his hand remaining, weight not fully on me. Still Boromir didn't move. He stayed where he was, sitting on my legs, and when he spoke again his voice was so quiet that I struggled to hear it. "I saw you and Legolas tonight. I saw your joy and love. Whatever you want, whoever you want, I will defend it with my life. They will not take you from this world, from your love, without taking me as well. I came to appologise. If Legolas is who your heart has chosen then-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up." I snapped. I wanted to be angry again but right now? I was just upset. He had been right all along, the asshole, right about Legolas, about Elves, and even about my baby physically aging slowly. What if I had known? Known that I was marrying Legolas? Known that we might concieve a child that wouldn't grow to adulthood before I died? That I would reduce his life by hundreds of years, change his life and Gimli's life, alter their future in such a drastic way? Not to mention all the things they were meant to do. People they were meant to change. Elves. Dwarves. Who knew what kind of impact their friendship would have on the world, on Elves and Dwarves, after so much hostility for so long?

If I had known that I would have such a negative effect on his future … Would I have given into him?

I loved him. But I probably wouldn't have done it. For his sake and my own. This was why Elves and humans didn't love. Because it didn't work. They were used to such a different way of living. Legolas still couldn't comprehend how little time I'd have with him. To him that time was nothing.

I felt so tired suddenly. Boromir's words were nice and all but they were too late. Wrong. He'd been right the first time around.

A shudder went through me, I felt so cold suddenly, and he slid back suddenly.

"Come to the fire."

I followed him, sliding across the floor, watching as Boromir started to heap various sized firewood onto the coals and blow on it.

"You were right. It was stupid. I don't know what I was th... no, I wasn't thinking."

The words brought up the tears and I twisted my head away, keeping my eyes shut, feeling his eyes boring into me. When I opened my eyes again he was staring at me with a kind of sadness that mirrored my own. One of his hands reached out to grasp my hand, holding it tight, as the other shoved small twigs into the fire.

The urge to kick him in the balls again rose. I ignored it. The anger kept trying to build but then I'd see Legolas face and it faded again. It just wasn't happening. Their words kept echoing in my head. I had to go 'home'. I had to leave. I had to give up the child. And I couldn't affect his future like that. Why had I thought otherwise? The second another Elf showed up they slapped me with reality.

"What exactly did you overhear?" I asked quietly. The fire suddenly caught on the smaller twigs, flaring into life, and Boromir sat back beside me with a heavy flop.

"You are returning to your world. The child remains here."

Great. He'd heard all the highlights that Legolas hadn't. I turned, digging my fingernails into my palms, and felt them cut through the skin. The pain somehow made my heart less … overwhelming. "Legolas doesn't know I'm returning. Don't tell him." It wouldn't help the situation.

"What does he know?" He didn't touch me any more than hold my hand, didn't try and kiss me, and there was space between us.

Boromir was actually trying to keep a distance that I was comfortable with. This was such a relief. Yes, I was angry with Boromir, because once again he'd crawled up here drunk. Well. Climbed. Climbed up a sheer cliff, wet with rain, while _drunk_. But he was also my friend. He also hadn't kissed me tonight. Well. He had on the forehead. But did that count?

"He knows I'm going to Rivendel. Not anything else." Also, he knew I wasn't doing this any more. Whatever the fuck that meant. Divorce? How could it be divorce when I hadn't really known we'd married to begin with? Maybe it hadn't been one. Marriage usually had to be something both parties were aware of.

"And he accepts this? That you go to Rivendel upon the summoning of Lord Elrond?" When I nodded, Boromir twisted to turn me, nearly tipping sideways in his haste. "You are not going. Not to Rivendel. You do not leave my city."

"Tough." Did I really have a choice? "Lord Elrond thinks it's best."

"And he also takes you from us. He does not take you and they will not take that child from you. They will not take you from my city so long as I breathe." His hand tightened in mine, his voice tightening with some kind of anger, but he was doing his best to control himself. Amazing. A few tears and Boromir was on his best behaviour. I was too emotional to care but … it'd probably come in handy in the future.

Or at least that was what I thought.

I didn't answer. I stayed quiet. Tired. It was happening and that was that. Then suddenly he snapped. Boromir twisted towards me, grasping my shoulders, his voice rising as he spat, "What has happened to your fight, woman? They come to take your child and you do not fight?"

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I snapped. "How would I know where I belong? Here? There? Maybe they're right. I already changed too much. I nearly ruined Legolas' future just by being here. Not thinking."

"Ruin!" Boromir spat. He was growing angry. He stood up as well. "You call your love _ruin_? You carry a new life, you have saved lives, and some of us would die to experience the ruin your heart brings with no regrets. The small pain is nothing compared to the love you show."

Some of us would die? I couldn't look at him. He more or less proved it right with those words. I didn't want anyone to die for that. I crossed my arms and stared out past his shoulder into the dark night. "He had a different future. I … he had something else to do. I was selfish to think I could fit into that. Maybe they're right. The baby belongs here. I belong somewhere else. Legolas has something else to do. And you. I'm not fair to you either." I didn't elaborate. I knew he hurt.

"Yes, you have changed things." He grasped my arms, staring down at me, hands clenching my arms tightly. Boromir hissed, his voice soft and intense, "Here I sit, alive, witnessing my brother about to marry. Watching you grow from a nervous girl to a warrior, in just a few short weeks, and become a woman as you walk alongside me. And yes, I also feel pain, but … as I have just said. I saw such love in your face tonight as you gazed upon the Elf that I could never tear that from you. It was a moment that brought humility and sanity back. I would kill that which took that expression from you, rather than see you as you are now, heart broken and lost. I do not regret my love for you. I would die at the banks of the river than to live a day without the feelings I have. Yes, I suffer, but I do it knowing that you have a chance at happiness."

I did not want to hear this right now. But when he continued, "And I will keep you safe here with Legolas, as long as I must, before-"

"We're over. It's done. I didn't know we'd married when we had, and it wasn't right, and we … too many problems. You should go." Before I started to bawl all over again. It was seconds away. I shoved at him hard, shoving him towards the door, ignoring his attempts at shoving back. He didn't seem able to bring himself to do it. "Don't tell a word of this to Legolas. Nothing. He'll be fine. He gets a baby and I get..."

"What do you get? It cannot make you happy if you are so sad."

Flashes of Brian, of dad, and I lost it. Tears started to fall again. Did I want to go back there? No! I didn't even care about it any more. Who did I have there? A soon to be ex-boyfriend who was a jerk? Or a dad who was in prison? What else did I have? I didn't even remember. When Boromir grasped me in a giant bear hug I couldn't bring myself to resist. I leaned against him, crying for my life, as he held onto me. Whatever faults he had ...at least he could be dependent on. He pulled me against his side, big arms and chest hiding me from the entire damn world, and I couldn't bring myself to beat him up again. Later. I'd do it later.

"You do not have to leave. I swear, you will not leave my sight until they change their mind."

"But I ruined..."

"Nothing." Boromir's voice took on that sharp edge again, anger, and his arms tightened. "_Nothing_. You have saved my life. I cannot tell you of Legolas' life. But you do not have so much power as to change the fate of the world. Not anymore. The Fellowship's duty has ended now. If they send you, I will follow, I will find a way to follow. And I will drag your Elf."

"We're over. He kept …. kept dreaming of me dying. All the time. He couldn't accept it. That I would grow old. That our kid wouldn't even be an adult when I..." The words cracked as I said them. Admitted them aloud to Boromir of all people. I might have expected saying this to Aragorn, if someone had asked, but to Boromir after his behaviour? Yet right now... he listened, he didn't push or judge, and he frowned. "He couldn't accept it. It wasn't right for either of us."

I sat Boromir again, as I had always, this mortal man sitting beside me. Lines. Openly showing his own empathic sadness. He couldn't meet my eyes after a moment, he gazed towards the fire, his jaw tensing.

"You say that but your eyes do not agree. Nay. I do not believe it. You are exhausted and have had a terrible shock." Boromir's hand was stroking my hair, his lips against my forehead, his body actually trembling. "I will speak to Lord Elrond myself tomorrow. I do not believe you have done anything near as bad as you believe."

Oh fucking hell. One second he wanted me. The next? He was all 'team Legolas!' But I just sat there, being held was so comforting, and didn't respond.

We sat there in silence a long time, Boromir only moving to add another log to the fire, and after a while.

"Come." He said after a while. "You should sleep. And undress this time." As I blinked, Boromir added quickly, "I will not stay. You will sleep better if you are comfortable. I will be here in the morning with your breakfast to wake you before I talk to Lord Elrond. Not even my nurse could stop me."

That was nice. I stood up, quiet, and he waited. What was he waiting for?

"I miss your anger." Boromir muttered. "You would gut me for daring to wake you, I expect, and I am even more worried."

Would I?

Okay. I probably would. Usually. Instead I stood there, numb, as I felt him move to unlace parts of the tunic behind me that I couldn't reach. Then he headed for the door, glancing back at me with another furrow of his brow, before he left.

Back into bed. No more convenient visitors. Still, I didn't sleep. I was very tired and I just couldn't get past it into actual sleep. It was already growing light when I drifted off.

When I woke, I didn't feel any better than I had when I was asleep, the sense of depression and exhaustion still dogging at me. Wasn't sleep supposed to be this great 'forget everything and wake up expecting everything to be okay' time? Apparently not. I'd had nightmares, one after another, and had literally been aware of how heavy and depressed my chest felt. It was like being buried and crushed by my own grief.

Movement had woken me. Quiet, a soft oath, and a shadow moving across the window. When I opened one eye and squinted out through my hair I saw something out beyond the heavy velvet sliding the curtains shut and attempting to block the daylight outside. They didn't need to- it was still grey and raining out there. It was pretty dark anyway. Who it was, I couldn't actually see, I could only see their silhouette against the bed curtains.

But from the heavy feet, the clear 'I'm stepping on the ground' way that person walked, and the oath, I knew it was Boromir. Legolas barely made a sound when he walked. Boromir trod on the earth and made it tremble slightly.

As he passed by the gap in my curtains I saw I was right. Boromir. He knelt in front of a fire and dropped another heavy log onto an already healthy fire. He kept trying to be so quiet, I could see it, he cringed when the log fell heavily, cringed as his boot cracked a stick that had fallen onto the flagstones in front of the fireplace, and when he nearly tripped over a basket and sent a frying pan flying, his eyes darted to me in a panic.

"Did I wake you?"

"When you closed the curtain."

"That was the quietest thing I have done all morning!" He still spoke softly. Boromir shook his head and bent down to pick up the frying pan. "When I saw you asleep I decided I would wait for you to wake before I brought you breakfast. Wait just a few minutes and you will have something. I did try and speak to Lord Elrond but Gandalf could not tell me where he is." He was doing something as he spoke. Eggs. Cracking eggs into the pan and shoving it on top of the fire. Bacon. I smelt it the second the oil started to sizzle.

Boromir cooking me breakfast. It was sweet. I knew that, logically, I knew that what he was doing was sweet of him. But I didn't feel anything. Not sadness. Not happiness. Nothing. I just felt empty. My chest was just hollow.

"Thank you for cooking." I mumbled. It seemed like the right thing to say. Should I say I wasn't hungry? Or was that rude? I wasn't sure- I was going off logic right now. I didn't feel hungry.

"I am hungry too."

"Sorry for sleeping so long." What time was it anyway? I glanced at how grey and dark it was outside. I couldn't tell if I'd slept an hour or ten.

"You were tired. Now." He concentrated on the food as he grabbed a couple of pieces of bread and added it to the frying pan. "We will eat as much as we can."

I wanted to ask about Legolas. The words hung there as I lay in bed and stayed there. But I couldn't bring myself to ask. Guilt dogged at me when I tried. This feeling, this 'it's wrong' thing, it had been with me for weeks and weeks. I would ignore it because of my own selfish feelings. Because it 'felt good'. But weren't these kinds of things about more than just feeling good?

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

No answer and I wished I hadn't asked. Stupid person to ask. I should have asked Aragorn, not Boromir, not after Boromir had made it clear for weeks what HIS feelings were. He didn't even turn around as he busied himself with the frying pan.

"Your heart tells you better than I." Something in his voice had tensed. Boromir's shoulders squared as he spoke and his movements grew stiffer.

Okay. That was insensitive. I shut my eyes and wished I hadn't asked. Shit. "Sorry."

He didn't answer. Boromir only seemed to relax when he was satisfied with the food, spooning it into plates, and stared across the room for my bed.

"I had bread but when I cut into it, twas little friends, and I decided it was not worth risking."

"Little friends?"

"There were shapes moving through the bread." He rested down on his side slowly, balancing the two plates, and when Boromir was lying down he held out my plate. "Eat."

I watched him lie there, suddenly so self-concious of how little I wore under the covers, but the funny thing was that he barely even seemed to notice or care. Maybe he was too tired to have thought of it- his own eyes were dark, shadowed, the clear look of a man who once again had barely slept. If he had slept at all.

Bugger. This whole thing was messed up.

I shut my eyes and was woken a few minutes later by Boromir, who was shoving the plate at me and prodding me, and slowly started to eat as his eyes bored into mine. Yeah yeah. Eating. Food. Into stomach.

As we ate, the urge to ask about Leglas kept rising, but I could never quite get it to happen. I'd feel the words, the urge would rise, I'd inhale, swallow breakfast and..

Well, nothing.

Could I have done it if it was Aragorn or one of the hobbits and not Boromir? Maybe. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as we ate the fried eggs and ham, or some kind of meat, his body relaxed enough across the bed beside me, but his attention somewhere else. Funny how different he was behaving. Okay- he was above the sheets- but we were on my bed. No attempts at kissing. Nothing.

Not that I really minded. It just surprised me how good he was behaving right now.

"Hurry up and eat, woman, before I eat it for you." He grumbled. It was half-hearted, a joke that he barely had energy for, Boromir's head flopping back. He'd already emptied his plate and relaxed.

"You might fall asleep half way."

"I might. Why does your bed always smell so good? I may have to tie you to mine so that I may sleep better." He twisted his head towards me, yawning, winking.

Okay. Little less behaving. I flushed somewhat and glanced away towards the window.

"You wish to know where he is?"

A nod. NOW I couldn't meet his eyes. I slid the half eaten breakfast to one side.

"Then finish your breakfast."

"Who are you, my father?" I muttered. Boromir's grin took my breath away, this sudden grin that was all promices and something OTHER than 'friendly friend here to support you', because apparently this statement was more than he could resist.

"The things I would do to you, woman, were you not heartbroken would make it clear I am _anything_ but your father." Intense eyes, suddenly, boring into mine. Reminding me that under these sheets I wore a nightgown. That was it. He twisted his head away and tried to hide the look on his face.

My body went crazy. I felt squirmy and hot faced suddenly, even through the depression, and started to eat. Hormones. It had to be the hormones. I couldn't explain my physical reaction to that statement otherwise. It had to be. I wished I had the internet to find out. NOW I missed google. Also. I needed it to be changed to Legolas now. I couldn't cope with his attitude unless I had some way to hurt him.

Neither of us spoke a while. But I barely ate. I tried, I really did, but my throat was still swollen with some kind of emotion I couldn't quite ...get out. So shoving food past it was slow going. I admired the damage I'd done to his face, as I tried to eat, the black eye, the bruises and scars, a cut on his neck. Pretty good.

And maybe I was also … also was reluctant to find out. There was this sense that I wouldn't like the answer.

"Legolas is with Aragorn and Gimli." Boromir said softer, his grin fading, his eyes going away. "I do not know exactly how he is. He did not seem well."

"Not even sugar coating it."

"If you mean I should make it easier for you, no, for I would not lie to you." Boromir added softer, "Though perhaps I should."

Should? Why? My heart sank. Warm fuzzy feelings gone. I was suddenly dropped back into that pit of desperation somehow, chest empty, and felt my body actually physically weaken with it. The food felt too heavy. "He's..."

"Not well, as I said, sick even." He clearly wanted to stop talking about it. Boromir met my eyes and frowned. "Do not look so devestated. h\He was well enough to try and attack me. So you need not think he is dying. He was pale, did not speak, and his hair was ...different. It was not well kept."

In other words he didn't have braids or comb it every half hour. Bad. I squeezed my eyes shut and

felt the bed sink as a warm body came to lie against mine, arms capturing me, Boromir's scent filling my nostrils. Not bad. Just ...obvious. When I realised I'd started to cry again I tried to shove him off me. Okay. What was wrong with me? Hurting him?

I tried to remember the reasons. Stupid reasons. Stupid reasons that no amount of love would make go away.

"Stop it. Do not fear being sad with me."

"Blah blah blah. I don't know how come I'm flipping around." Except hormones. Also. I'd kind of done the wrong thing by him. Why hadn't I just ...told him? Right at the start? That I felt like it was a bad idea?

"Blah... blah... blah?" He repeated me, slowly, and I wasn't sure if there was pity on his face or amusement. "I do not know if it was the right thing, Wenduin, but I trust your heart to know."

My heart didn't know. I missed Legolas. And I pushed Boromir backwards, slowly, breathing out.

Boromir didn't stay the rest of the day. He probably wanted to, from how much he tried to linger, but he had a life and he more or less vanished once I'd clearly eaten. I was left alone. To nap, to stare out the window, numb one second, hysterical the next, and these sessions filled with the occasional attempt at throwing up.

I could have left my room. I wasn't locked in there. But when I thought about it... I'd suddenly wonder if I'd run into Legolas. Gimli. Aragorn. This wasn't something I could face yet.

The more time that passed the less I wanted to face Boromir as well. I saw less of his good side and more of the beautiful bruises I'd caused last night. It was easier to be angry at him than it was to accept that right now he was helping. That felt like a betrayal. Betraying someone I wasn't actually with.

When I realised this, I laughed, almost hysterical. And when I looked outside, it was suddenly dark.

Well, okay, not suddenly. It had been raining all day. But the fire had died down, I had barely moved from my bed. Ignored the food Boromir had left beside the fire. Ignored the firewood. Now I stood up, slowly, and went to wash with water in the room beside mine. Bathroom or storage room, or a bit of both, I wasn't really sure.

It was strange suddenly how quiet it got. How I'd go from always having at least one person around, Eowyn, Aragorn, Faramir, even some maid, to being on my own. It only increased the guilt and confusion.

Going to bed alone did not help either. I sat there. No energy to sleep, no energy to lie down, I felt so numb and empty.

I picked up my phone as I lay in bed, staring at it, and once again I felt... I didn't know.

Some part of me wanted to contact Brian. All I had to do was turn it on. I didn't know what to say to him. It was just ... that some part of me, that warrior side, it had faded and I felt like I needed someone to be angry at me. I needed someone to tell me exactly what I should do now. Boromir hadn't done that. Legolas hadn't even spoken when he'd left. No one had told me it was the wrong thing.

No one had told me off. I felt so bad.

It felt like he hadn't left my side. I stared sideways across my bed in the darkness, at the empty space, reaching out to brush my hand against the cold half. It felt like he'd never left my room or my side. Still the bed was cold. Cold and ...empty. Fuck. Fuck.

It was either turn the phone on or run back to him right now. Willpower was draining. I wanted to mess up his stupid hair myself. But not his life. I didn't want to mess up his life.

I slept somehow that night. Maybe. The next day was empty, no one came, not even Boromir, and the fire was more or less dead so I ignored it. I wandered around, keeping the door locked, drank water, and slept.

Something in me was dying. I felt it. I knew it. Even as a life grew inside me, something was dying, and I felt lifeless. Numb. Darkness and light, it came and went, and so did food, which I tossed to the birds. Visitors probably came. I had the door locked and stayed quiet. If it wasn't Boromir it would be Aragorn, who had also been right, or Gimli, who might argue for Legolas, and if it was Boromir...

Truthfully I wasn't able to face him again. Not after the shame of feeling desire for him. Feeling it so fast!

Nope. It was better to cut away for a while.

So I ignored people at the door. I offered the food to the birds. I bathed, of course I did, the need to be clean was pretty much the only thing that got me out of bed and I suspected people must have gotten into the 'bathing room' via the little door in there because it always seemed to be clean. But they more or less left me alone.

Maybe this was strange. Maybe not.

The rain came and went. I sat there during the light, watching it, legs crossed. Watched the sun cross over Minas Tirith and the plains that surrounded it. The people far down below. They shopped, they moved around, the city being repaired. It just seemed easier to focus on everything else that didn't involve me. When I saw someone from the Fellowship- the hobbits were most obvious- I cringed and had to retreat in till they were gone.

It was dark when I finally gave into the urge to turn on my phone.

The phone flashed on in the darkness, fully charged from being left in the sunshine the day before, and I stared at it. The brightness hurt. The sound seemed weird. And messages came.

Like before, it had a full bar of reception, which was both weird and unsettling. And like before I felt like a stranger with what I saw on it. Yes- a few names made sense. Most still had no meaning. Maxine, Irene, Kat, Davie, and a huge list of other names. Nope. No meaning whatsoever.

Brian. Photo. I stared at the photo of him. Of course I felt something, now that I remembered him, it was impossible. Before I knew it I was dialling him.

"Babe?" Sleepy voice. Was it late there too? He seemed to wake up fast. "_Baby_? What you doing? Where are you? Why the fuck haven't you answered my messages?"

I didn't know how to answer. I stared at the phone, the speaker feature put on by sheer instinct, and opened my mouth. "I... I don't know." I didn't know why the urge to call him had been so strong. Because I felt lost? Because he'd rescued me once before? Because I still cared about him even though he'd been a jerk?

Had he just been a jerk because he'd been stressed out?

Because I had a life here. _Had_. Had a life here. Right? The door opened and shut, I flinched as I heard it, but I didn't stop staring at Brian. His hair had been cut a little bit around his face. The light from the phone was so unnatural and weird on his face.

Suddenly I was crying again, tears sliding down my face silently, and I saw the tension increase in his face. Worry. He was so worried about me. God. I needed a hug right now. Wenduin... she felt like a stranger suddenly. Shit was bad and I needed help.

"I don't know, I don't know what I'm doing any more."

"You look like shit. Look. I have money waiting. Tell me where you are. I'll come get you." He was sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, adding, "Don't you hang up on me. I've been worried sick. You just vanished in the flood. They think you're dead. Only your dad agrees you'er ali... who the fuck is that?"

Arms closed around me, suddenly, Boromir sinking onto the bed behind me. He smelt of sweat, exhaustion, and his face pressed against the side of mine as he stared down into the light. "I leave you for five days and return to find you in tears again? What the fuck is this creation? Is it evil?"

The word suited him much too well. I cringed. I had to stop teaching Boromir my words. He ignored me as I tried to squirm free, arms tightening, taking the little phone and holding it up with a critical stare.

"Don't say that word." I muttered, soft, and felt his chest contract in a soft chuff of amusement.

"As you wish, my _lady_."

"_I-" _Brian cut in, sharply, making Boromir tense. "-am her boyfriend." He snapped, eyes snapping from Boromir to me, anger starting to rise. Something in me cringed. Kim cringed. I knew that look, I knew that anger, and while Wenduin might have wanted to slap him for it... Kim knew better. Knew, from her own father, that to fight it made them worse.

It was easier to stay down. Stay quiet. They'd always go away.

"I should destroy this object." Boromir grunted softly. I felt him shift, sliding something out, the flash of metal showing he'd tugged a knife out of ...somewhere. "It makes you weak."

"_No."_ I couldn't stand the idea. I'd never destroyed it. Never. I couldn't bear the idea of being removed from … from that world. It shocked me, the need to still be connected, the need for this tiny plastic and metal object, because even though I'd ignored it... I'd still keep it safe. Keep it charged. Close. "No. Boromir, re-"

"Boromir?" The anger in Brian's face grew. "Another cosplayer? Are you cheating on me with the entire fucking cast? Where are you, New Zealand, banging the hobbits now?"

What! "No!"

"She bangs none but the Elf." Gee, thanks, that did NOT help. Boromir was shifting forward, chest pressed against my back as he stared down into the little video chat screen, narrowing his eyes. "Why does this one look so similar?"

"He's pretty close in face, isn't he? Just needs a bit more hair." To my surprise Brian actually relaxed. Maybe he thought by 'the Elf' Boromir had meant him. He was, _after all_, one of the most popular cosplayers of Legolas. They did have a lot in common when Brian was all … extensions, make up, fake ears, shimmery make up and fake clothing. "We should adopt him into our Fellowship. Where are you?"

"Minas Tirith." Boromir twisted his head towards mine, dropping his knife and raising a hand to brush his rough fingers against my damp cheek, now suddenly ignoring the phone. "You have not allowed anyone in here for days. Aragorn believed it was what you needed. But I am here now. Talk with _me_. Not with this sorry excuse for a man."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. I should call you back." Finger pressed the little hang up button before he could react. I twisted towards Boromir, then thought better, and turned away. He clearly disagreed that this was a good idea- Boromir grasped my shoulder and made me face him again.

"Wenduin?"

"My name was Kimberly. Kim."

"Kim." He tested this word, scowled, and shook his head. "Nay, not you. Wendy. Wenduin. These names suit you. Have you been in here for five days sulking?"

"Five days? Really _that long_?"

"Your Elf said much the same thing. At least, I would presume as much, but he has not stopped speaking in Elvish since you saw him last." Boromir scowled. "I am sure he does it to annoy me."

I wanted to laugh, hysteria flooding me at his statement, but Boromir crossed his arms and stared at me. He suddenly grasped me and shook me hard. "Wake up. You are like the walking dead. Have you eaten?"

"I guess."

He took my phone, sudden, standing up and backing off. "I leave you for five days and you do not eat, you do not brush your hair, you and the Elf are as bad as each other. It is this which makes me feel as if neither of you are right. You are as a disease for each other."

Ow. That really hurt.

"See?" Boromir snapped. He slid the phone into some pouch thing. "You see? When you are lovers, his fate is changed for the worse, and when you are not, neither of you can eat or live. The breathing _dead_. How can I support your love for him when it devastates your health? It is not love, Wendy, it is obsession."

"You can speak, Boromir, how do you behave with me?" I mumbled. When he flinched, I cringed, and twisted away so I couldn't see the hurt on his face. Okay. It had been cruel. But he did behave badly too.

"Aye, I do not fare much better, but I still live without you. I love you enough to live without you if that is what you need. If he was what you needed, I would live without you, and I would do so with all my heart. You have stopped _living_." He grasped a cup from the table and drank water, fast, scowling. "Why is this not stronger?"

"Time to sleep." I slid the blankets over me. I heard him growl softly, something crashing againt the wall suddenly, and so I tugged the blanket over my head.

The blankets flew off the bed, Boromir dragging them off in one huge yank, and the anger in his face shocked me. I stared up at him as he knelt on the bed, crawling across, and grasped my face, kissing me hard.

I lay there. Quiet. Still. He scowled when I didn't fight him, didn't punch him, and leaned up.

"Where is the fight that I love so much?" He cupped my face gently, shutting his eyes, a strange expression crossing his face. "What can I do?"

"Maybe they were right. I have to go back."

I inhaled sharply when I felt a hand slide up my thigh, under the night dress, and was aware suddenly of the intense look in his eyes. The look that I'd felt too numb to really notice before. Boromir grasped my knee, suddenly, dragging my legs apart, and knelt between them.

"Boromir, no, I'm not interested!" Why was my voice so damn weak? It was more of a squeak.

"Did you say something?" He snapped, hands tightening on my knees when I tried to close them, and drew them wider apart, his eyes slowly tracing down. I stared up at him, wide eyed, face red, breathing hard suddenly at the expression in his face. The nightgown was long enough to hide everything there, he really only could see bare leg, but …

I hadn't even thought about it. It wasn't transparent. It was high in the neck. Went right down to my knees. But right now it may have well not existed at all. He stared at me with such intense lust, anger and affection, that I squirmed, and tried to peel his hands off my legs.

"I said no."

"Did you say something?" He slid his hands up the outside of my thighs, his own thighs keeping my legs wide as he scooted up, rough leather pants scratching against my pants. "I did not hear. Nay, maybe it was nothing."

"Boromir!"

"The wind, perhaps?" He inhaled slowly as the nightgown slid over my hips, my bare skin exposed to him in the darkness, and lips crushed me again as his body pressed against mine. "Perhaps it is the wind."

Like before, I felt heat flooding my body and face, I couldn't stop it. Hormones or whatever, it didn't matter, because I couldn't... even if I DID have to let Legolas go... it was too fucking soon.

Something smashed across Boromir's head suddenly. Smooth. Crumbling. Dampness exploded over both of us, and then something warm and wet dripping down my face. Blood? I'd cut his face.

Boromir grinned. Then he slapped me.

Slapped me.

I hit him hard, which made him slap me again, and I gaped up at him. "You're hitting me!"

"Slapping, woman, and you are hitting me."

"Because I'm _allowed_! You're a man! You can't hit a woman!"

"You are no woman, my love, you are a man contained within this beautiful body."

I inhaled sharply again as his thigh suddenly rode up hard between my legs, amusement all over his face at my reaction, and his eyes moved down my body once more without any attempt at hiding what he was looking for. So I hit him again hard, which caused him to hit my shoulder in return. The anger that I'd tried to supress started to rise big time. "Boromir, stop it!"

"Or what, Wenduin, will you plead for mercy? Will you _beg_?" To my shock he slid down, slowly, kissing down my chest through the fabric, and pushed my nightgown up as he moved. When his lips found my bare stomach I growled and tried to shove him off.

"I'd never fucking beg you for anything!" I snapped. "Never!"

"Woman, you would be begging me nightly, were I allowed to do to you what I wish." The wicked grin increased as his legs widened mine. His lips left my stomach, to my relief, but when I felt his lips find the inside of my thigh, his stubble tickling and teasing me, I groaned and tried to shove at his stupid big head.

Suddenly he sat up, reaching for his shirt and drew it off with a quick yank. "Now, lay still, and let me kiss you."

"I'm going to _kill you_."

"Aye, you tell me that, but I see the truth in your eyes. Lie there a moment and trust your Boromir..."

He was reaching for his belt. One of them, anyway, for some reason he had TWO on. I watched, breathing hard, not sure WHAT THE FUCK I was feeling. I knew he was serious. As one fell beside me and he reached for the second, I reacted, my anger deciding what to do for me.

I grabbed the belt as he dropped it on the bed, snatching it, and started to whack it against him. Boromir grunted in pain, quickly sliding backwards, the thin leather belt whipping against his bare chest. I followed. I slid off the bed, fast, the nightgown falling, and stormed after him, ignoring the heat that'd flooded my body at his actions. Face red I swore at him, slapping the belt hard against him, and barely felt his answering 'blows'. It was almost like he wasn't trying.

He grasped for something, as he backed up, stumbling somewhat, an obvious bulge in his pants making my anger grow even more.

"I said no, Boromir, what the fuck is the matter with you?" I swore as I appraoched him. Why the fuck was he still grinning at me? "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"There you are. Where have you been?" He grabbed the belt, suddenly, and so easily pulled it out of my iron grip that I blinked. Boromir winked and turned to the door. "Come in, Aragorn, I told you. I know this woman."

I twisted to the door, staring as Aragorn came in, his eyes fixed on my eyes and avoiding the nightgown with the same determination that Boromir had spent in looking at it.

"Here." He held out a tray of food. "Eat."

My eyes went from Aragorn to Boromir, Boromir standing there with his arms crossed and this horrible smug smirk on his face, Aragorn with a more apologetic smile as he held it out.

"What ..."

"None else could wake you from it. I am sorry if he upset you." Aragorn shot a look at Boromir. "He promised to kiss you only. Where is your shirt, Boromir?"

"I did kiss her. Very thoroughly. " He grinned as he winked at me. "Did I not?"

"I _hate_ you."

"Then prove it. Eat. Dress. And beat me in a duel."

I gawked at him as he held something up. Something that was new to the room. A pair of swords? Armour? Had he carried all of that in while I wasn't looking? Boromir strode over to where his shirt had fallen and tugged it back on. "If I win, I will remain with you all night."

"And if I win, you get to spend the night outside?"

"If that is what you want."

"Naked. Tied to a tree."

Aragorn laughed as Boromir scowled. "He will be tied to the soldier's barracks, Wenduin, not in public where innocent women and children may see his shame. You may think this less but his soldiers will not let him forget it for the rest of his life. I swear- if I do not see to it, Faramir will gladly."

"I will win. She has weakened. I have much more of her to see..." Boromir grunted in pain again as I aimed the belt for his head, his arm rising fast to block it, leaving another welt of pain. "This love is painful!"

"Fine." I snapped.

I ate, scowling at Boromir as he refused to leave, my anger driving something. Aragorn seemed to know waiting outside was the right thing to do. Boromir apparently didn't care.

"You going to stay as I dress?"

"Is that an invitation, my man in a woman's body?"

"No." Aragorn appeared again, dragging at his arm. "We will help you with the armour."

I dressed, breathing hard, desire gone now. Logic was back. He'd done it to piss me off. Oh, he'd probably enjoyed every second of it, but why else would the man have put on two belts? Still it did do something. It triggered something in me and snapped me into 'action mode'. Action mode was good. I had missed it. I grasped the blade once I had dressed and lifted it.

It was my blade. It was the one I'd carried since Rohan. Someone had repaired it, the leather keeping the blade safe was new, etched with new designs. But I knew the handle.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

The door opened and both Aragorn and Boromir helped me re-armour up. Just light leather, thin, enough to protect me somewhat but not weigh me down. Boromir had a vest of his own. He grinned as he left me outside, continuing to tease and torment me about how he'd stay with me all night. Naked.

"Not naked." Aragorn said softly. "I will glue his clothing on, if I must."

"You would not!"

"I would and I would laugh if you ripped hair out trying to remove it." Aragorn's arm crossed over my shoulders. He was leading us to a deserted area in the city, with only the light of the moon,and there were no guards here. Just the three of us.

"Now. I will go easy on you." Boromir promiced, as he steadied himself.

I scowled and tried to hit him hard with the blade. My force actually surprised him, but as I struck down, I suddenly had this memory of him just inches from kissing there... and he'd known it.

"Hey!" He shoved at me, hard, blade blocking mine only barely. It threw me back a few feet though and I stumbled back, just catching myself in time.

"Be gentle, Boromir, she is with child." Aragorn stood close by, arms crossed, torn between worry and amusement .

"And what of I! I need this arm!"

"This was your idea." Aragorn retorted.

I ignored them both. I hadn't forgotten the baby but I had a score to settle, and Boromir's hesitation to hurt me made it all the easier to crash my sword at him, using every last second of training HE'D offered to make him stumble.

Was it wrong that when I managed to slash him through the tunic that it felt good? Who cared. I glared at him as he grasped for his arm.

"Do you submit to her?"

"I would never!" Boromir scowled, grasping his arm where I'd cut it, and he lunged at me. This time he was more serious, and the two of us fought, blade crashing.

I wasn't his level of fighter. Not even by a long shot. But being pregnant had such a massive advantage- half the time Boromir would hesitate, he was afraid of wounding me, so I seemed to be doing better than him. When he nicked my hip he actually threw down his sword, swore, and tried to check that it was fine.

I grasped the slice across my hip, sliding the pants down to check, and shrugged. He'd honestly only scratched me. It'd cut through pants and there was a tiny scratch. It was long but so shallow that it was on the level of 'papercut'. "It's nothing."

"One strike each. The next to draw blood wins." Aragorn added, quickly, "Unless one of you submit."

"Nope." I grasped my sword hard and tugged my pants back up.

"I ..." Boromir stared at my hip. He'd actually gone pale and he crossed his arms. "You are pregnant and yet you still fight?"

"You saw me naked."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed as he shot a look at Boromir. "Did you kiss her or more, Boromir?"

"Only half."

"The bottom half!"

To my surprise Aragorn actually strode across to hit Boromir hard, grasping his collar, and glared at him. "Boromir..."

"I made her angry and here she is." Boromir held up his hands. "Fine, I submit. I yield. I cannot best her. She has won in sword and in words."

"Good." Aragorn turned to me. He scowled. "Sorry. I should have trusted my instincts. It was out of sheer desperation for you and your health that I allowed it at all. Boromir has been begging for days now."

"I was not _begging_." Again, the pride reared up in Boromir's face, and he tightened his hands across his chest.

"You were. And now you will again. Meet me at your barracks or I will inform your brother of what she has just told me. Wenduin, I am sorry."

"As am I. I am a man of honour. I will be at the barracks." Boromir moved away, slowly, glancing over his shoulder at me. I had the distinct impression that Boromir wasn't sorry. He was trying his best but … he grinned before he vanished under an arch.

Aragorn sighed softly and bent down to pick up the sword Boromir had thrown aside. He met my eyes and reached out to clasp my hands, slowly peeling the sword out of my hand, before he gently dropped them to one side. "My friend."

"Sister now."

"You are a sister to me." He agreed. Suddenly he grasped me, hugging me hard against him, and I felt the anger fade. Once again I felt sadness. Was that Legolas I smelt on him? Had he hugged Legolas?

"I had to..."

"Why? Come and sit." Aragorn's hand slid into mine and we moved through the darkness to a seat.

There was no judgement in his face as I told him everything. Only sympathy, warm sympathy, and when I was done he sighed and pulled me against his side. "I see."

"Even if I... even if we kept it going. He'd have to leave again soon. And he just can't accept that I'm going to age. I don't know how to explain to him that's how it works." I muttered.

"Soon?"

"Well, thirty years or so."

"I see." Aragorn sighed.

We sat there quietly. As 'action Wendy' faded I felt numb again, tired, and when he hugged me harder against his side, I breathed out slowly.

"How is he doing?"

"He is surviving, as you are, and has been taken to the camp where the Elves from Rivendel are. You need not worry for him." Aragorn said softly. "Gimli is with him now. He still talks, he still eats and drinks, and has gone hunting orc not three hours past. I am taking you back to the house where the rest of the Fellowship sleeps. This is not an easy thing you are experiencing I … would rather keep a closer eye on Boromir as well."

I nodded. He stood up, helping me up, and I followed him quietly back to the smaller house I'd once shared with Eowyn.


	25. The problem with choice

Nothing much had changed in the little house on the edge of Minas Tirith. It was cleaner, I suspected, though it was hard to see in the darkness. There were new objects here and there, packs, weapons, a weapon rack, crates in a dark corner. Numerous seats of various sizes around the edge where a fire was as well as cushions of various shapes and sizes. It had been set up for a larger group of people instead of just two women.

What I did notice that compared to the room up near the great hall, the one designed for a 'Princess', this place was pretty bare. Not that I minded. It actually relaxed me quite a bit to be back in a place that didn't make me feel like walking on the carpet was like walking on a masterpiece.

"The hobbits have agreed they prefer the basement." Aragorn said from my side. I blinked. We had a basement? Wow, that was so cool.

"I wouldn't mind..."

"You need not feel guilty. They are used to homes in the ground. It is more comfortable for them down there. Your old room is empty for you now." Aragorn moved closer, lowering a lantern he'd had to a table, and added, "Is the cut a bad one?"

"Not really. It's already stopped bleeding." I checked to make sure. I was right though. Boromir, for all his talk, had been petrified of injuring me 'in this condition'. Aragorn checked anyway and nodded.

"I hope he did not torment you too much tonight. I had hoped you would be better with some time alone." Aragorn moved towards the kitchen, sliding a thin piece of wood into the wood heated stove, fiddling with it as he did.

"Was it really five days?"

"No, four."

I was going to kick Boromir's ass again. I supposed four was as bad as five. I crossed my arms and sat down at the little kitchen table while he knelt in front of the wood stove. "How is ...your crowning? Day? Thing?"

"The coronation planning is out of my hands now." He shrugged. Aragorn seemed to at least be coping with the idea of being King. Me? Sure, I could see him as a great King, but at the same time he was still Aragorn to me. "Which is a relief. I have much on my mind about that which comes beyond the ceremony."

"I bet. _King_."

"Aye. King." He laughed softly. Aragorn closed the door to the wood stove and turned to me. "I did not mean to trap you with the confines of a title as well. I may not have thought this through. Unfortunately there are now problems with it."

Uh oh. I breathed in slowly. Whatever it was, I could handle it, I wasn't going to panic.

"Being with-child and unmarried, within the eyes of Gondor, is going to cause you problems."

Oh, bloody hell, how had I not seen this coming? I screwed up my face as he continued.

"I do not wish to pressure you but Boromir has informed me you intend on staying longer." Aragorn looked increasingly uncomfortable as he spoke. "You must be aware- if you remain here, pregnant, and unmarried, I cannot change the opinion of those within Minas Tirith. It would be difficult."

For him too, I bet, seeing as I was his 'sister'. I wanted to stab something again. Problems were great. They distracted from Legolas. But I had no clue what to do. "You mean I'd have trouble walking along the street or something?"

"You may have more trouble than you'd like. The people of Minas Tirith are not bad but a crowd can forget itself very quickly. I do not say it to worry you or with the expectation that you'd leave. I am preparing you for a difficult time."

With that cheery thought he went to bed and I went to my own. The room was a little different, the bed was different, sheets maybe from the 'princess' chambers, this one also a four poster bed with the velvet curtains. There was a nicer rug. A painting on the wall of a forest meadow. I undressed and crawled into the bed, inhaling slowly as I smelt something familiar under the sheets.

Legolas had been here. Maybe not recently but I could smell it. I flopped down against the cool sheets, cheek pressed against the pillow, and tried to sleep.

It didn't work though. I just lay there, head repeating Boromir's words over and over, staring into the darkness. Obsession? What did he mean by that? Had I ...was I... obsessed with Legolas? I loved him. That was an absolute truth that I _knew_ deep down. And here I was, lying in the bed he'd lain in, and I ...well, I wanted to go find him.

Obsession? Could love become obsession?

Boromir's words unsettled me big time. In a way... I did live around Legolas. There was the time before him, in 'my world', and then there was the time with him. Literally from the moment he plucked me out of the river. Now I felt like I was in 'after Legolas' time.

Was that unhealthy? That my entire life was revolving around him?

My sleep was uneasy and it wasn't long after I fell asleep that I was woken again anyway. Aragorn stood there, half his profile visable in the dim light of a lantern, knocking on the inside of my wall as he stood there.

"...What?" I mumbled, sitting up, confused and groggy. "What?"

"I am sorry. But you are needed. Boromir and Farmair have sent for you."

"Now?"

"Apparently this could not wait." Aragorn frowned and lowered the lantern onto the chest of drawers.

I dressed again, pants, belt, long tunic, then remembered that the belt was supposed to go over the tunic. Or was it under? Second belt. Couldn't hurt to have both. I took three seconds to realise that it COULD hurt- my pants were too tight- and abandoned the belt under the tunic quickly.

No time to worry about hair. Or... maybe there was. I didn't know. Truthfully I was too sleep to care about hair. I brushed it for three seconds before heading out into the hallway with the lantern.

"My Lady. I will escort you." A nervous looking man in the traditional metal plate spoke up from downstairs as I came down.

"Is it far? Her leg is not so good."

I had forgot about it, honestly, I'd gotten so used to getting around with it.

"The library, my Lor... Sire." He added quickly, "I can walk slow." It was kind of funny. The guy was a few years older than me, maybe, but so new and nervous that he seemed to be unsure about how to act, what to say, like we were some special species he had to be VERY careful around.

"All right." I agreed. I was kind of amused. Was every soldier around here some nervous guy?

Aragorn leaned in, voice low and soft, as he informed me, "Boromir delights in sending the new soldiers to yourself or to my side. He torments them greatly over our safety."

Sadistic bastard. I was kind of amused though. Another distraction that diverted me from the usual place I kept sinking into. The new soldier led me up through the darkness, the stars bright between clouds, and he kept at a slow pace that I could keep up with.

It was so cold outside now, a light rain drizzling down, and I noticed that there was a tavern between the house and the top. _Those_ people seemed pretty warm.

"Come, my Lady." The soldier urged softly. As we passed by, I felt eyes on me suddenly, stares. For the first time since I'd come to the city...well, except for the battle itself... I felt pretty uneasy. He glanced back too. "They come to trade. I do not think they are bad but they drink."

"So avoid them."

"My sister told me that they can make some comments they shouldn't to women when they drink." He responded, glancing backwards, and we heard laughter.

"Are you new?"

"I fought at the battle. I'm not that new." He responded. "Captain Boromir wants me to do night duty for a few months. Get used to the dark. He said the Orc prefer the dark and … is it true you fought?"

I nodded and he smiled. "My sister thinks it was true. Mother doesn't. I'll tell her. Here we are."

We ended up at a larger library. I hadn't seen this one yet. It was massive, endless rows of books and scrolls, carved into a building near the top of Minas Tirith, with heavy iron doors that weren't quite on right. The front of the library had been devastated, even now I could tell, with the traces of fires and damage in the stone. I had to assume Orc had smashed their way in here and played a bit... but without actually being able to read they'd probably gotten pretty bored with a pile of papers.

"This way, my Lady."

I was led past the main room and into a long hall with various doors going to smaller rooms. As we walked I heard an argument drift down the hall towards us.

Boromir. I didn't have to hear the words to know his tone of voice.

"I have refused. Why do you continue to goad me?" Boromir's voice drifted down the hall. I hesitated, wondering if I should back off, but I heard him continue, "I have refused the place of Steward-Prince. There is none better for it than my brother. I am content and comfortable as Captain of Gondor and-"

"And what of your father's wishes? Faramir is not so useless as Denethor believed, I do not disagree, but you were intended to take his place when he died." An unfamiliar voice. "You spent your life being trained..."

Oh crap. Yet another complication of bringing Boromir back to life. I stayed frozen, even as the guard glanced back, and when he gestured for me to continue to follow I did. Warily. As I came around the corner into a smaller room Boromir spoke.

"And everything I was taught I taught my brother." He caught sight of me and held out a hand. The urge to hang onto it when I saw a complete stranger standing there, a dark haired man with a few lines of silver through his hair, was surprisingly overwhelming. I clenched my hand to avoid it. "This is Wenduin. Wenduin, this is my uncle. Prince Imrahil, who acts as Steward until the time Faramir is strong enough. He is the brother of my mother."

Faramir wasn't acting as steward yet? Really?

"Uncle, this is the Lady Wenduin."

"Princess Wenduin." Prince Imrahil corrected his nephew softly. "An honour to meet the Lady that I have heard so much of."

I wanted to cringe at the title. But I was too busy trying to suddenly figure out what to do. Curtsey? In a panic, hidden deep inside, I nodded my head and was relieved when he did the same. Apparently 'head bowing' was appropriate. "Please, just call me Wenduin."

"As if we were family?" He actually smiled. It reminded me of Faramir's smile than Boromir, this gentle smile that warmed the older man's eyes, and he nodded. "And you may then call me Imrahil. I must thank you for saving Boromir's life. How old are you?"

"Eighteen." The words came out before I could say them. Was that really my age? Nineteen? I wasn't sure it even fit any more. But I was, wasn't I? I'd had a birthday somewhere between Rivendell and Minas Tirith. I'd promised Brian to lose my virginity to him on my birthday. I felt like I had aged ten years since then. I felt stronger. Older. Maybe I had gotten my age wrong after all. I hadn't a clear memory, after all, and … who knew? The answer seemed to please him though.

"Then you are just a few years younger than my youngest daughter." Imrahil's eyes went to Boromir, "And near the same age as my sister when she agreed to marry your father. He was also in his early forties when they married."

Oh, really? His mother married young then. Okay. 'Agreed' to marry young. But then I was married now too. The last part's meaning only dawned on me after a moment and I blinked. Oh boy. What had Boromir told him?

Before I could open my mouth Boromir spoke. Probably cut me off on purpose. "_This_ is not the issue I wanted to discuss. Wenduin, you spoke of foreseeing the future, and that Faramir was Steward. Did you not?"

Oh. I got it. "Yeah. I saw Faramir as steward."

Boromir relaxed somewhat.

"But Boromir was not alive."

"No..." I admitted. This uncle of his, Imrahil, was boring into me with his eyes. "No, he wasn't. But Faramir was meant to be ..."

"In the absence of you." Imrahil turned to Boromir. "I do not doubt her visions. They are what saved you. But to abandon your title so easily..."

"I am happy, uncle, and do not feel any loss over it. Why can you not accept it?" Boromir flopped heavily against the desk and sat there, arms crossed, frustration all over his face. I wondered why it mattered what his uncle thought, aside from the whole moral thing, but apparently it did. I didn't need to for long- Boromir continued. "The Council have agreed to uphold my decision. Can you not agree?"

"Not until I am certain it is the right one. You are the hero of Minas Tirith..."

"I was, and now Faramir is as well. His bravery and honour holds great respect amongst my men." Boromir groaned. I wondered if I should leave but when he met my eyes, he was clearly happy with me staying, and I leaned against the desk as well somewhat. Unladylike slumping? Tough... really. He reached out to clasp his hand over mine and I hesitated, allowing it just a moment before drawing my arms back to cross my arms.

Imrahil had not missed this, of course, and he seemed to have enough restrain to not comment. He raised one of his eyebrows though.

I decided this was probably a good time to head back. I'd said what Boromir had needed me to say. Standing up, I opened my mouth to say something, and Boromir got the hint.

"I have said my piece." He stood up again, straight. "I am staying as Captain. There will be no man greater suited to Steward than my brother. If you do not support him openly, I will, as will his men."

"I support you both." Imrahil called after us. But he didn't follow.

Boromir slid his arm through mine, leaning against me, and waved the guard off as he tried to follow. "Back to the wall."

"Yes, Captain."

I walked slowly beside him, gazing around the library, reaching out to touch a book that'd been left on a table. Interesting. It was a family tree. Boromir froze as I slowed and he watched me as I traced the names on the thick paper. I looked up at him. "Weren't you supposed to be tied up?"

"Aragorn will delay it till tomorrow night, as my uncle had urgent business. Or so he claimed."

"Then we'll have a rematch."

"Will we? If you wish a rematch then I gladly will fight at a chance to not be strug out naked for my soldiers to torment. Look. Here we are." He reached out to twist the book a little towards him and pointed to where his and Faramir's names sat. "They have left room for our children. The next page will be for the children of our children. A new age."

I had to assume by 'our' he meant his and Faramir's children. I didn't ask though. If I asked he'd, even if he HAD meant himself and Faramir, would probably not miss the opportunity to suggest us again. Boromir was moving towards the door again anyway and I followed slowly.

He waited for me at the door and slid his arm through mine again. We walked slowly, side by side, the city so still and quiet that it could seem almost dead again. I gazed around for signs of life. They were subtle but there. Squeak of rats. The smell of people, which wasn't all pleasant, but also in some windows the flicker of light which meant fires were being kept going all night. There was the clear smell of smoke.

"It's so quiet at night." I said quietly as we stopped at the edge. "Isn't it?"

"As the warmth of summer comes there will be more and more life past the darkness. Tonight is a spring night none but the mad would be out in. Would you like my cloak?" Boromir agreed. I shook my head.

"Do you have festivals. Celebrations?"

"Aye, and it will not be long before the next. There will be great streamers tied from post to post, upon each level of Minas Tirith, music, and we will have peformers come from far and wide. It is to celebrate the approaching summer." Boromir grinned. "It is the mid-summer celebration that you would like most, I think, for the warmth lingers from dusk to dawn during that time and many will remain up all night during the full moon. We feast, we dance, and we enjoy the warmth of the night. Once, when I was a boy, it was tradition to ride to the river and to swim and dance beside it. As the dangers of Mordor grew too much it was abandoned. I intend on resuming that tradition this year."

"It sounds nice."

"This city, I love, but it is far more formal than I like." Boromir's arm crossed over my shoulders again, his cloak in one hand, and I was pulled into the warmth between his body and under the fur lined cloak. "Many are in bed too early. Now. Osgiliath. That was a city that I can see you loving. Music, dancing, the very best artists on the land, and even at dawn in the cold of winter there was still men and women upon the streets."

"Even though it was so trashed?" I hadn't even seen it yet but I had vague memories of it being ...well, rubble. An endless battle ground.

"I speak of its history. When it was the capital." Boromir shrugged lightly. "But I spent much time as a youth learning of the history of Gondor. I swore that as Steward I would begin the rebuilding and restore her. Now, as I am Captain, perhaps I can do that freely as Faramir takes the role of Steward."

"You can do that?"

"Aragorn has already spoken of wishing to restore Osgiliath and the lost city of Annúminas. I will build you a home there." He breathed out slowly and stopped, pulling me into his arms, and when I went to shove him back, Boromir just tightened his arms and grinned down at me. "You felt cold, my lady."

"I can still retract our rematch and get Aragorn to tie you up, my _Lord_." I snapped. It was so hard to be angry or to push him away when he was in this kind of mood. This almost dreamy mood. "What's this about a home for me?"

"I promise. Live here or far away, there will be a home for you in Osgiliath, right beside the river. And another in Annúminas."

"Seems like a waste if no one's there."

Boromir ignored my statement. He rested his chin on my head. "It will have a balcony and and a room for your child, should he or she come to Gondor to visit, and a garden."

I felt tired suddenly. I didn't know where I would be in nine months, in ten years, and I had no clue where my baby would be. His arms still held onto me and I leaned against him now, breathing out, sadness filling me again. His dreams made me sad. I didn't know if I could ever forefill them. No, I wasn't with Legolas, but …

"I'll probably have to return to my world, you know."

Boromir grunted and tightened his arms. "Not if I have much to say. I must find Lord Elrond."

"Enough." I muttered. I slid down out of his grasp. "Maybe they're right. Maybe … I don't know. No. I do know."

Well, okay. I didn't know. But then, I didn't know a lot of things right now, and that problem was hanging over my head. I moved away on my own, ignoring the stare of the young soldier that was trailing after us, crossing my arms. The thought about that made me feel tired again, exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl back into bed. Boromir's affection did not help. Every time he was close by, every time he tried to do something with me, it woke me up. Angered me, or amused me, or stimulated my mind, or all of the above.

Some part of me wanted to be sorry for myself now. I wanted to be sad because Legolas was too. It seemed so wrong to keep finding myself smiling or laughing or something.

"You know I wasn't meant to be here." I said softly. I stared at him. He may have been handling my mortality better but ...well, reality just wasn't with him either.

He didn't follow. I glanced back. Boromir had frozen, his face shadowed, his body tense. He was actually walking away from me. Towards Gandalf, I realised, as I caught the old wizard's gaze. He nodded at me before Boromir grasped his arm.

It was probably better to leave Boromir to it. He had started to argue, I could tell, and he was seconds from dragging me into it. Or if not him, Gandalf, who I equally couldn't face.

I hurried away.

As I did, I swore that I was being followed. Being watched. It was like earlier, when I'd felt like Legolas had been in bed with me, because I was sure he was close by. I froze, glancing around, heart starting to thud hard. Nothing. Dark shadows, cold, the rain, and that was it.

It was amazing how dark these cities could get at night. There wasn't even so much as a lit lamppost out here. I shivered, watched as Boromir argued with Gandalf further up the street, something about 'her fate' from Boromir. But Gandalf just stood there. It looked like Gandalf was being the passive 'wall' and letting Boromir rant. Really not important. I turned and continued on alone.

"Okay, relax." I muttered. I stared around again. Legolas, however much it felt like it, was not behind me or beside me. If he was lurking in the shadows that was his problem. My leg made sure my going was slow and I tried to think as I hobbled down the street.

If I stayed here, would Legolas have to take the baby anyway? Or would I raise it here? Aragorn didn't know yet but Arwen would be here. Or would I … have to leave? Would I take the baby with me? Why were they so keen on keeping it here? I got that Elf children were treasures but...

Then again, how could I even have thought of taking this baby home when even I struggled with that world? I still didn't know much. I knew I had a boyfriend. I knew that I lived with him. Or had they rented the room out that I'd shared?

The glow of the tavern hit me suddenly and I blinked, freezing, as two shapes came close.

"You the woman?"

"Probably not." I muttered and stepped sideways. A hand closed over my wrist and I spun, slapping it hard, backing up. My leg just about gave way with that sudden motion. Tough. As I faced them, half-blinded by their lantern, I crossed my arms. They all stank like cheap beer and had that 'I need a woman' expression I'd started to associate with Boromir. So if they were waiting for a woman I clearly wasn't going to come close to what they wanted. "I'm not whoever you're waiting for."

"Don't know, brother, she's ..." The shortest of the three, who looked the oldest, looked a little less drunk than the other two. He blinked at me through hazy eyes. His lust seemed to dim somewhat. "She ain't the one."

"She'll do." That was the first man, younger than the other, and stronger. I suddenly had the sense that I needed a sword or something. My eyes flickered to his belt. Knife. They both had a knife. If they came close...

"That wasn't what I meant."

Arms grasped me, a hand sliding up my tunic, the smell of alcohol as third man grunted, "Hello, beautiful. Out looking for some real men?"

"Hold her arms." There was a third voice, sharper, and my 'knife' plan went out the window as my arms were twisted back painfully. Something rough brushed one arm and this time I went crazy, kicking, trying to get one arm free to grab a knife, while one of their stinking hands covered my mouth.

"Stop moving, girl..."

There was the flash of something, a knife, and something pressed against my neck. Cold and sharp. I froze.

"That's it, girl, you know what that is. Stop moving. We won't hurt you." The man behind me, slightly pudgy, breathed against the neck of my neck. "This woman has some hideous ears."

"Men, brother, I really..." The oldest man, the short one, still hadn't moved. His eyes were locked into my furious eyes, cringing somewhat, reaching out.

"We won't hurt her. Not much." The tall young one laughed as if this was the most hilarious joke. "Hold her but a moment..."

Fear reared sharply as the knife was dug in, even though it'd fallen to my collarbone, I was so aware of how drunk they were. They might slash my throat without even thinking. I froze, ignoring the grunt of 'good girl', watching as the young drunk man tried to kneel and pull my over-tunic off, leaving me in the sleeveless under tunic, and apparently a woman's bare arms were as big a turn on as ankles around here. He was so busy staring at them that he nearly tipped over sideways in the effort.

I wasn't so worried about having no warm over-tunic or having bare arms. It was when the man behind me literally shoved me against the edge of the building, and one of the men … I was too fogged with fear and anger to figure out who... was following as his hands went to his waist. To his belt. My body was twisted around so I was face first into the wall, a knife reappearing as I struggled, breathing hard in short sharp pants.

Oh fuck _no_. But I was afraid. I hated that I was afraid. I had a baby inside me and ...I didn't know what to do. I could cope with fighting Boromir, I knew he wouldn't be rough, but with men who were drunk? Who didn't know or care? It was the fear that paralysed me, fear of the blade, and of ...being _there_ again. And where was Boromir? Fucking arguing with a wizard who'd let him go on all night.

What if this hurt the baby? Oh fuck. I couldn't cope with this. I twisted around, or tried to, striking whoever was close, ignoring the knife now. I struck out, punching the closest man, and cringed as sharp metal dug into my shoulder.

"I'm not … I am just passing by." I tried to snap. It didn't work. It sounded more like a plea. I hated how weak my voice was. It was my fear speaking, not my anger, and I tried to 'change channels'. Intimidate. I was feeling safe in this place and some drunken horny idiots had to ruin that. When I struggled, the knife dug in harder, and skin gave way so easily. "Let me go and I won't harm you. You don't want to... my friends..."

"Stay quiet and you'll see them soon. Who's first?"

"Brother, I don't think she's the one..." The voice, the oldest man of the three, was the reason I hadn't gone into full panic mode. He seemed to be sane. He was moving forward, actually pulling one of them away from me, adding, "We should wait."

The arm was actually being pulled off me, the older shorter man trying to pull me free, when Boromir finally caught up.

"Woman, can you not avoid a fight for three seconds?" Boromir. Cranky. I groaned with relief and then inhale sharply as the knife cut, whoever was holding it apparently either swaying or turning, which caused his 'casual' tone to change very fast. "These three were tiring of life, it seems."

I'd never heard Boromir so cold before. Never.

Apparently his tone got them to back up too, because I was suddenly let go of, and with two strides Boromir was beside me, blocking me from them, the softness of his cloak dropped over my shoulders. He turned me around slowly, ignoring them a moment, fingers grazing over where the knife had dug in.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded. He didn't believe me, I saw it in his face, and as his anger increased, my own seemed to drain out. Boromir. Stealing my anger. Typical. He turned. Massive man. Taller than all three of the drunk me.

I had never felt any more relieved than right now for him to be stealing my anger.

"Which of you wish to die first?"

"Come on, man, we were just going to have a little fun... have a dip... welcome to join us..."

Boromir struck out at the speaker, who just so happened to be the one who had his pant halfway down his legs and was now nearly tripping over them trying to get them on, and the force of his blue sent the man stumbling back. There was a sickening crack as one side of the man's body struck a pile of crates. Wood or bone, I wasn't sure, but it wasn't him I was focused on.

I'd never seen Boromir so angry. _Never._ Not even when fighting Orc. I could barely ...recognise him. He was approaching one of the other men, his breathing hard, the veins in his necks standing out, and he grasped the throat of the nearest with such speed that they barely had time to blink.

Boromir grabbed the throat of one of the other two, lifting him up, his face white with rage as he squeezed hard. "I've heard reports about you. Harassing our women."

"Thought she was … was... one of your whores..." The man gasped, grasping at Boromir's hand, and beside the big man he looked pretty scrawny and pathetic.

" Do you know the penalty in Gondor for this?" Boromir hissed softly. It suddenly snapped in my head. He wasn't just angry. He was about ready to kill them. The man's face was starting to turn purple and he was making some weird rasping sounds.

"Boromir, I'm fine." I grasped his arm, tugging, his muscles hard. Okay. Bad. He more or less ignored me. This was a first. "Let him down." Freaked out, sure, but ...well, they were drunk. There was better punishments. Like tying them up for a day so everyone could throw rotten tomato at them. "Nothing happened." Nothing more than bared arms and ...well, knives.

I was grabbed, Boromir's head snapping to the side, that sharp metal pressed against my throat again.

"P... put him down. Put my brother down. You'll kill him!" It was the oldest of the three men, the short one, and I could literally feel his heart pounding against my back, his arm iron around me, his breathing hard. I squeezed my eyes shut when the blade dug in a little too deep for safety. "Put him down or I'll … I swear. It was a mistake. We hired a whore. I tried to tell him but..."

"Did you not see the fear?" But Boromir's hand relaxed around the man's throat, his other hand reaching out for me. They'd pretty much spotted his weakness straight off. Me. No one answered. I squeezed my eyes shut as the blade sunk deep a moment, warmth flooding down my neck, heard Boromir's sharp inhale.

"If she dies, you all die, and I will make sure it is the most painful death I can imagine." He scowled and flung the man to the ground, very hard, and the man stumbled to remain standing, grasping at his neck, wheezing for air. Boromir twisted towards me. "Release her now."

"Sometimes they look afrai... when they're new... or young..." The third man, the one with a broken bone somewhere, hissed softly. He was kneeling, cradling his arm, hunched over, face drained of blood as he tried to breathe.

This statement did not pacify Boromir. He twisted around, fury filling his face again, and grabbed the kneeling man. Or went to. Something whistled through the air, something fast, and the man fell back with a soft cry of pain. He stared at the arrow in his thigh like he couldn't believe it. His eyes shot to the nearest guard tower.

"About time." He muttered.

The man behind me stiffened. Suddenly he was gone too, the cold of the night replacing his panicked grasp on me, and he was on the ground grasping onto his leg, face drained of blood.

Arrows. So perfectly shot. I knew, even if Boromir had thought otherwise, that this had nothing to do with any Minas Tirith soldier.

I felt him before I saw him, felt his presence, his eyes, and shut my eyes a moment. Legolas.

Time seemed to slow, I barely noticed or felt Boromir has he tried to get me to stand, barely heard him calling for guards or some shit like that. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't see Legolas, but I knew he was around. Was he hiding on a roof? My eyes were scanning the dark buildings again, even as Boromir spoke at me, but I couldn't really hear him.

I saw movement. Just a brief second. Time slowed more, as our eyes met, and even though there had to be several hundred metres between us... I'd seen him. He'd seen me. It was as clear as if we'd been merely feet apart. His brows were furrowed, the merest trace of anger on his face, but it was nothing like Boromir. He was ...controlled. Calm. Deadly, sure, but calm. Then he was turning and leaving.

I wanted to call for him to come back. I wanted to …

The sense of 'going mad' returned big time. What was _wrong_ with me.

A sharp slap shocked me out of my daze, Boromir's hand lowering, and he grasped my head, twisting it back, some kind of cloth wrapped around my neck. "Snap out of it, woman."

"Legolas..."

"Twas probably an archer from one of the towers. Slow tonight!" He called the last part, with a gruff grunt, and it was only now I saw the three men were being restrained by a pair of older soldiers.

"Sorry, Captain."

"The cut isn't bad. The woman has lost her mind again." Boromir raised his hand to slap me again. I blinked and, before he could slap me again, I hit him hard in the stomach. To my surprise, he actually laughed, and pulled me against him in a hard embrace. "There you are."

"Yes, let me go."

"Not a chance."

I hit him hard, harder than before, only to get kicked in return. I scowled. "Ow!"

"You deserve it for walking away on your own without a weapon, woman."

"Well, you were the one trying to argue with Gandalf..."

If the soldiers thought it was strange we were hitting each other and arguing apparently they didn't want to show it because they were turning quickly, one of the men being dragged, the other two being marched off somewhere.

"You walked away from me. In the dark."

"You were arguing with Gandalf." I stood back. Boromir stepped forward to match me, cloak still around me, and when I tried to step back, he literally bundled me up into his arms like I was a damsel. "I had it totally under control. Put me down!"

"Yes, with a knife to your throat and a baby to protect, I saw. Not on your life, woman, not until you're safe at home."

I hit him, hit him all the way home, but it was half-hearted. Legolas was in my mind and ...well, I was kind of relieved he'd shown up.

"Thanks." I mumbled, against his shoulder, and added, "Sorry."

"Minas Tirith is safe, much of the time, but no city is safe at night. Where is your sword?"

"At home."

"Useless there." Boromir slowed down as we reached the door. I opened it and we went through, his foot closing it behind us, and he only put me down when we'd reached my room.

I didn't know why I didn't tell him Legolas had been there. He was twisting back towards me, fingers gentle now against my jaw as he twisted my head, tracing the cuts and gritting his teeth. "If one had not been already finding his senses, I would have gutted the three."

"That wouldn't have solved anything." I muttered. I prodded him in the stomach as he started to put pressure on one of the deeper cuts, inhaling sharply at the pain, adding, "Why weren't any guards watching them if they've been harassing women?"

"In truth I did not pay heed to it. I heard they spent time with our whores and thought nothing more of the other rumours."

"Even the soldier who took me to the library knew about it. His sister was worried enough to tell him." Or something like that. I added, "You should have had guards."

"This is why you will become a soldier here, should you stay, for you are probably right."

"Really?" I blinked at him. He wasn't kidding. Boromir was too focused on my cuts to be joking around.

"Aye, and do not ask what others think. I do not care." Boromir bent forward, suddenly, clearly intending on kissing me. I froze and without thinking my hand was between our mouths, pushing him back. "Do not make me tie you up, so I may kiss you, for we are alone at last and I would like to-"

"I saw Legolas." The words slipped out as my cheeks reddened. Okay. He hadn't said ANYTHING yet. But I had a bad feeling where he'd been going with that.

This killed whatever mood he'd been trying to work himself into. Boromir flopped against the wall. "And?"

"And I saw him." And what else? "He was there tonight. We ...looked at each other."

"Is that all?" Something was in his face. Hurt? Sadness? I wasn't sure. Anger, he was still angry and tense, but something else had joined it.

"I don't know." I admitted. His expression was making my stomach twist painfully. I'd never seen him look so … I didn't know. Disappointed. "We did see each other. It was weird. I felt … I felt like..."

"You miss him." When I nodded, he sighed, and I wished I hadn't agreed. Something broke in his face and he twisted away as if he couldn't even look at me now. "Then you have returned to his side. I have lost my chance to win your heart."

"I … I don't know!" I slid down to sit on the bed, crossing my legs, his reaction surprising. Had he been waiting for me to return to Legolas all this time? I couldn't. I couldn't mess his future up. Suddenly I felt like I was looking forward to the crowning. Then, at least, Legolas would leave. I felt so claustrophobic suddenly. Legolas following me outside. Boromir with me all the time inside. "I miss him. I miss you when you're not around." His head swung up at that but I continued, staring at my hands, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm so confused right now. I don't know what to do. Some part of me wants to just leave. Leave everything. I don't know how to please both of you."

Maybe Rivendell for nine months wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe Lord Elrond had a good point.

I didn't know. All those weeks of doubt. Yes, they'd gone away whenever Legolas had been close enough to touch, but then he'd vanish for a while and they'd return.

"You can not please us both. All I would ask of you is that you please yourself." Boromir said softly. I still refused to look at him. "Do not think of us at all. If you are happy, then I am, and I do not doubt Legolas would feel the same way."

"You said it's obsession."

"I was angry."

"Do you think that's what it is?"

"I do not know." Boromir sighed. "I feel my own control slip around you, as you have well noticed, so perhaps all love is obsession. But when I see you and he loose the desire to live, I cannot help but only hear that word."

That hurt. He'd lost it? But he'd said … he'd said we were two halves of the same soul. Or something. Except that I was mortal. And by being with me, I changed his future, and ...I groaned softly, head in hands, fingers in my hair.

"I don't know what to do. I shouldn't have let it go so far. I knew something was wrong with it."

"What do you mean?" His voice had tensed, suddenly, and I heard him twist towards me slowly.

"I feel so bad. I … maybe if I'd just trusted my feelings earlier, he wouldn't be like this." I said quietly. The news about Legolas was not welcome. The urge to run to him rose up so badly... I wanted to hold him, and kiss him, and braid his hair, and explain everything.

I missed him.

Fuck, I loved him. And the sense of betraying Boromir again weighed on me. If I went to Legolas, I betrayed them both, and that was the sad truth of it. I didn't know what the fuck Legolas' future had to do with ...well, anything, really.

Boromir had no future. He was supposed to be dead right now. I couldn't screw him up unless I broke his heart.

"I guess... I should have told him my doubts right from the start. Maybe he'd at least had warning then." And it wouldn't be close to being 'obsession'. Or would it? I didn't know.

And what was with the sight thing? Why … why did I keep seeing distance so clearly? Was that because Legolas did something to help? I had to assume that was it. He'd wanted me to see him tonight. Had he hoped I'd change my mind?

I was seconds from it. I really was. Just knowing he was out there right now watching my back... I was seconds from going to the balcony and trying to call him. But Boromir kept heavy in my mind and chest.

"Doubts?" Something in Boromir's tone made me look up to where he reclined across my bed. He was staring at me like I'd said something terrible. He actually looked hurt and upset with me now. "You had doubts? What doubts?"

"I... of course. I mean, um, it was … well, it was difficult. I always knew that. You know what I mean. You seemed to notice." Didn't he?

"I thought I was going _mad_, Wenduin, I thought my heart was following the madness my father had!" His face had paled with anger. "You had _doubts_ about Legolas?"

"I-"

"I cannot believe you did not listen to me then! All this time! And that child … it could have been mine! Did I not always make it clear to you how I felt?" He stood up, stumbling a bit, and the expression on his face was terrible. Not just anger. Hurt. Really terrible hurt. "Did I not show you that I loved you?"

"You were going to offer me to your brother!"

"Yes, and I would not offer anything less to the man I love most, than the woman I love most! You would have been happy and I would have been happy for it."

"Then why can't..." I corrected myself just in time as his face darkened, "...couldn't you be happy for me?"

"I was last night! And I still am! Nay, I am not, for I have just found out that this entire time you felt the same way about me and your Elf as I did! And you lied to me! To him! That child could have been mine! Many a time I wish..."

"What?"

"I wish that child was mine. That I had … but no, I could never do such a thing to you."

I got it. He wished he'd really done it. Forced himself onto me. I felt my own anger rise as my face paled. I could barely remember the illusion now, just fragments, but it was enough to remind me of how traumatised I'd been. "You bastard... and that child would never have been yours. It was conceived in Lothlorien." Most likely.

"Lothl..." He shut his eyes. More hurt. Regret too, that he'd admitted that terrible thing, but he said anyway, "I would love your child as if it were my own, no matter who or how it was begun. Do not mistake me. I do not hate your child. It is yours and so I love it as much as I love you."

"Boro-"

Once again I was cut off as his eyes locked into mine. I couldn't find the energy to speak. Fuck. Why had I admitted that?

"All this time. You could have told me. One word. One moment. I would have been there for you. All this time, you agreed with me, that Legolas was not right. That an Elf and a human could not remain lovers. If it had ended sooner, would Lord Elrond take that child away? Would he even know who's it was? If nothing else, I could have protected it."

I felt the blood drain out of my face. "I'm sorry. I couldn't pretend anyway."

"I know. I know also that you hurt. This was not easy. But … so long, you could have told me, and ..." His eyes widened. "Is it my age? Do you reject me because of my age?"

"What? No! You're only..."

"Forty."

Okay. Twice my age. I hesitated long enough to add to the pain on his face. It was like rejection Boromir all over again. My chest hurt and I was sure I was about to cry all over again. Legolas and now Boromir. I suddenly hated all males. Couldn't stand it. I felt suffocated. He'd gone from so good to ...well, _this_.

"My father and my mother also shared this difference in age and were happy until her last days! I..." He inhaled sharply, shut his eyes, clenched his fists, his breathing heavy. "I cannot look at you. Not right now. You will have to excuse me. I... I swore to bring your Elf back. If it makes you happy, I would spend every last breath ensuring you two may remain together, but … I do not know myself now. I need a moment to breathe."

And with that, he was gone. Just walked out. Slammed the door even.

I was breathing hard, face white, staring at it as it continued to vibrate. It almost felt like I couldn't get enough air. Somehow I rose, slowly, my legs weak somehow. When I got to the door I locked it and for good measure, dragged something in front of it, this urge to keep everyone out overwhelming. I felt so sick.


	26. Collision

I wanted to stab something when I woke up the next morning, exhausted, grumpy and tired. Stab it until it bled and then stab it some more. Vomiting was the next choice, not that I had much of a chance to say no, and I knelt there as last night's ...whatever that mess had been... came to greet the sunshine.

Crawling back into bed after, I lay there, and found myself missing the toilet again. Oh toilet. There were some things in my world I couldn't deny I missed. The flush button was a big part of that right now.

As I slowly woke up, lying in the bed again, last night started to replay in my brain. The cuts on my neck and shoulder reminded me of what had happened and … it was only now, now that the night was over, that I could really feel like I'd escaped something pretty nasty... at the time I hadn't been able to get my head around it. Probably a good thing. I might have freaked out.

Boromir. Legolas.

I groaned and dragged a pillow over my head. Fucking hell. If it wasn't for Aragorn's big crowning thing I might have run for the hills. Let the men duke it out.

Come to think of it, Boromir had stolen my phone, and he still hadn't returned it. I doubted he'd know what to do with it but I seriously hoped he didn't damage it.

I missed Eowyn. Yeah, sure, I had others here. But it was nice to have girl power. SHE probably wouldn't find it strange that I would walk alone at night. Other people, including Boromir, probably did think that was silly. Me?

Well, maybe it had been, because I had more or less been warned by that soldier. But I was cranky at Boromir for ...well, I wasn't sure, I just knew I was and it involved him, and his stubbornness, and the moment where he decided to argue with Gandalf himself.

My fingers traced down my stomach slowly as I lay there. I hadn't felt it since that morning with Legolas, hadn't really been able to, but as I touched that space again I tried to breathe and relax. Okay. Okay.

"Sorry, wriggler." I said quietly. It was the first time I'd actually spoken to the baby. Feeling the lump made the whole thing a lot more real for me. "Sorry. Your dad and ...Uncle Boromir... are jerks."

If baby agreed, whatever his name was going to be, I couldn't tell. I gritted my teeth. Boromir shouldn't have lost his head over what I'd said last night- what did it change anyway? Did that mean if he'd have known he would have tried harder to separate us?

"Okay." Okay. So. "Baby. We'll work it out."

So, I didn't know. Did I ignore the men and … go off location?

Gondor. Minas Tirith. Okay, it had some great selling points. Great view. A bit too much stone, it was a masculine city all right, but at least there was a nice view. Lots of fellow humans running around who wouldn't blink twice if I accidentally farted or got a pimple. Or Mirkwood. Lots of nature. A lot of it, actually, including a deadly forest filled with spiders. I was from Australia. Spiders didn't usually phase me. I had this feeling though that these ones might. There were a lot of pretty people, a culture my baby was probably going to spend his life amongst anyway, and endless beauty.

Then there was home. In my world.

Even though my first reaction had been 'No way in hell', now I was ...remembering things more. Toliets, yes, but also other things. Coconuts. Oranges. Washing machines. Hot and cold water coming out of taps. I could see and be really grateful for all of that. They were things I just assumed would be apart of my life all the time but here, in this place, it wasn't that special. If I wanted a bath here someone had to cart and heat saucepan after saucepan of water, who knew how many times, or if I wanted an orange that apparently couldn't happen. Seasons.

And the birth.

My fingers pressed against the space between the hardness and the soft stomach, exploring, only now really thinking about the birth. It was this big elephant in the room I couldn't really focus on, because all these other stupid elephants in the room were trying to cuddle me, but … that wasn't something I could forget either.

Okay. So choosing the location didn't change the fact that I was stuck.

I growled softly. Twisted over in bed. Nope. I didn't know.

On the bright side, I tried to tell myself, at least I hadn't had crazy morning sickness. It seemed to be related to stress and not actual sickness. Nice. Positive thoughts. All that stuff.

I felt somewhat better when I'd washed, like usual, and I stood in front of the mirror inspecting my stomach. Was there something happening yet? Something showing?

There was a knock at the door, a quick one, and I heard a soft voice, "Are you up, Wenduin?"

Arwen? I tugged a robe around me, deciding shame was better than giving away her surprise for Aragorn, and she slipped into the room gratefully as she lowered her hood. She smiled as she gazed at me, eyes going up and down, before she suddenly grasped me in an embrace that surprised me.

"You look better." She squeezed me before she released me, one of her hands against my stomach, Arwen gazing down. There was this tender look in her face as she touched my stomach. Could she sense something? Hear something? ...smell something? "It was a terrible shock for you. I am sorry."

"It was. But …"

"You already knew."

I nodded and sighed. I sat down on the bed and crossed one leg as she gazed down at me. She was incredibly beautiful, that was true, but it was more than that. She seemed to express more emotion than any other Elf. Was that because of her father's bloodline? Or was that just how she was? Arwen sat in front of me when she'd pulled a chair across.

"Gandalf suggested to me that I explain why, and when, your child must be taken." She grasped my hands in hers. "Not straight away."

"I thought that's what he meant. When I gave birth, I'd go one way, and … well, he'd go to Mirkwood."

"He would prefer you in Rivendel for the safety it offers, not to imprison you, for he feels responsible for your safety." Arwen explained softly. "And he would not have asked you to give up Legolas Greenleaf if there was a chance you could have lived a happy life together. No Elf that sees the two of you would doubt that the love is real. It brightened the two of you, gave you both energy, strength and purpose, and it pained my father to cut that bond."

Her words made me suddenly want to cry. It was so sudden that I tried to hide it but my eyes were suddenly damp all over again and I tried to wipe them away with a sleeve. "I... well, you were right. I knew it."

"And so did he. I was blessed to be allowed the love I have and a way to live it." Arwen's sadness mirrored my own, her empathy bleeding over, and it just made my pain worse. "Legolas must have known. If he had not, he would have bonded to you in the way I have to Aragorn, and tied his fate to yours."

"He always said our fate was strange." Hormones. It had to be. My heart was already broken but she was more or less uncovering all the warm fuzz Boromir kept burying it under. Fuck. "I don't understand it still. I was happy. Afraid, yeah, and uncertain but ..."

"But it would have destroyed too much to continue. His joy would not have lasted as he felt the change of fate, felt that it was wrong, and even his love for you would not have endured his resentment. Do not think I do not care for your joy as well." Arwen said softly. "You were meant to come. I do not doubt that. But there are some fates, the fate of the Fellowship from now, that should not be changed. Every member of the Fellowship will now go on into the world and change it. Some by simply living. Some will spend their lives continuing the fight. I do not know the fates of each, only what my father has suggested, but there is no simple ending to something so great."

"I kind of do." Sort of. I knew Gimli and Legolas' fate anyway. Aragorn. I knew Sam had married someone. Frodo left Middle Earth. No clue about Pippin and Merry, except some vauge idea that they married and apparently had families of the tallest hobbits the shire had ever seen, which I wasn't sure about. "I kind of know what's going to happen."

"I know. Which is why you know it is important to let it happen. Legolas is still blessed with the gift of his race, Wendy, and so I believe he always felt deep down he could not abandon his fate either." Arwen's use of 'Wendy' surprised me. She stood up, pacing, and added, "I could not bear it so well as you if it was Aragorn I had to release. Nay. I did not bear it well. Now I can not even sleep for waiting, so eager am I for the day next week, and … I wish I could tell you that you could return to his side. But he is already half gone along his path- his spirit is starting along his path beside his Dwarf friend.

"He couldn't even face that I'd age. How could he … even face me after twenty years?"

"Perhaps that was why he could not face your own mortality. He hoped you would still be here when his fate was through with him. We struggle to let go when we love for we only love once."

More pain. I was trying so hard not to cry and it just didn't want to happen. I tucked my legs up, blanket over bared legs, fingers automatically finding my stomach. She hadn't said I would be. Lingering hope that I was some special secret half-elf or something vanished. I would die like the other mortal women.

I couldn't talk about Legolas any more. I couldn't do it. The idea that he'd come back in twenty years for our son, see that I was forty, see that I'd aged, and that it'd shatter any last hope in his heart that I'd be there for him. So... I had to do it now. I had to let him go right now, before next week, before Aragorn was crowned and it was time for Legolas and Gimli to move away.

"What about the baby? Lord Elrond wants it to stay?"

"Because it is Elf-kin and we treasure the children above all else." Arwen sighed. "I, on the other hand, know the urge of a mother. My father chose the immortality of our kin. His brother chose the blood of man. Your son will one day have to make the same choice. He will not age slowly, as an Elf, not until his body finishes the transition from boy to man."

"And you want him to know about his elf-blood."

"He should have both worlds. Boromir has made it clear he would rather you here, than you leave for your world, but your son is a child whose blood comes from much further than Minas Tirith. It is not just the world of men he'll need to come to know. Your world will also be a place he must experience. Three worlds. The world of men, here in Middle Earth, his kin within Mirkwood, and the world of which you came from."

"Wow." Wow. That was going to be … "How are we going to do that?"

"I cannot tell you that. But you will spend time between Minas Tirith and your home. When he is twenty he will come to Rivendell, for a time, and then to Mirkwood."

She didn't say if I'd see him after. I didn't ask. Far as I was concerned, I'd ask him to visit, because if he was ...if he WAS an adult... hopefully he wouldn't just abandon me. I didn't know. My head span just THINKING about having a grown up child. "And you're sure … sure that he won't take fifty years just to look like a ten year old human child?"

Arwen shook her head. "Not until his body has matured will the gift of our kin slow his aging. His his will life extend far beyond that of any mortal man. But he will remain mortal until he decides between the Elf-blood or the human-blood."

"So I won't be sixty by the time he's ...twenty. Or ten."

"No. You will live to see him as a strong young man. But he will not have children within your lifetime." Arwen smiled sadly.

Honestly, I was more overwhelmed by being pregnant with a baby that I'd be around for, I hadn't even thought about grandchildren. Okay. Um. I'd care about that another time. Couldn't even begin to worry or care about something like that.

Legolas though. Would he miss his son's first years? My heart twisted with pain again, stomach lurched, and I sat very still until my stomach relaxed again. I … I had to accept some parts of this. Here or Mirkwood, Legolas would have to do things, so … I had to breathe. I had good news about the aging. I wasn't sure I could ever face Legolas, not after what I'd put him through, and Boromir flashed across my mind.

I breathed out slowly. Shut my eyes. This was ...slightly less complicated then. "I still don't know how to … how to get him to live in both worlds. Wait, why would I bring him up here?"

"Boromir." She responded. She actually looked a little surprised. "Do you not care for him as well?"

Well, of course I did, and Arwen's surprise surprised me. Was everyone expecting me to …

What did I want?

I mean, he always eased the pain, he always made me happy, or if he didn't I'd cheer myself up by attacking him. There wasn't any other man, not even Brian, who'd ever …

I didn't know what to say. Her answer was so unexpected. Boromir had been this niggling pest, before now, I hadn't even thought of him as an actual 'choice'.

"Forgive me." She said, clearly surprised at my reaction, "I had heard whispers that he loved you."

"He does." I responded. Slowly, I stood, and stared out the window. He did. Boromir loved me. He'd tried to be so good, supportive, and I'd tipped him over the edge last night badly when I'd confessed I'd struggled with Legolas. Had he been torturing himself all that time, thinking I was competely happy, without care for his own heart? Fuck. "I don't know what to do with him. I changed his fate."

"With the grace of the Valar, you did, yes."

I blinked at Arwen. She was gazing out again, eyes distant, attention half on me and half somewhere else. "His fate was changed only with their blessing. You do not know how strange that is- that any man should be worth saving by Elf or Valar- but that is why the Elves of Lothlorien came for him. The Lady Galadriel, my grandmother, knew he had been offered another chance."

"Another chance." What else could I say? Now that I thought about it, yeah, okay, it was pretty special that he'd been rescued and healed by the Elves. Lothlorien wasn't the most social 'club of Elves' to begin with. They hadn;t just healed him. They'd armed him, let him march back to Helm's Deep, and … I remembered what it had been like. Boromir sticking close to my side the entire time. Letting me fight, even when Legolas couldn't bear the idea, even though we were both still struggling to function.

The man trusted me.

"His fate is free, his future unwritten, and you can not change it. Boromir has a long life to create of his own choosing now. Perhaps ..." Arwen lowered his voice. "Perhaps it was a gift to you, equally, for it was always known that Legolas could not remain by your side."

Always known.

"A gift."

Arwen nodded. She turned to me, a sad smile, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "It is not a gift given to man often. But you need not be alone if you would have him. And if not, he would still be happy, so you do not need feel any law binding you both. It may not feel it but Legolas' fate has changed his fate for the better for he was never meant to be a father."

I hadn't even thought about that. No. I'd never heard of any kids that Legolas had fathered. Forests, Gimli, undying lands. That was it. Still, however much she brought up Legolas, I couldn't face the topic. Not yet.

"My world. I … I don't know if I want to return to it." I said quietly. It was the other issue. No one had really asked. But … "I have some memories and they aren't good."

"You are stronger now. You may see your old world in a new way and find it is not so bad after all."Arwen's words were nice, they were sort of comforting, but I wasn't sure if I could face it. Dad. Brian. She added, "There are some battles we cannot avoid. Until you face these wounds you may never be able to heal them."

She didn't speak. I stood there, numb, overwhelmed with all this information. Legolas. Boromir. Three worlds. How was I supposed to seriously come between here and home? Magic ...necklace? Portal scroll?

But that was nothing. Boromir. He was weighing all over my head again, right there beside Legolas, and I wasn't sure what to do anymore. Truth was- I didn't love him. Not like Legolas. But I... I'd honestly never cared about anyone so much. Ever.

"Would it hurt Legolas..."

"If you were to marry Boromir in the laws of man?" Arwen guessed. "I could not say."

It probably would. It shocked me that this was what was holding me back. I didn't want to hurt Legolas. If he wasn't even a factor, would I be 'wooing' Boromir back, would I …

The answer was a very clear, very loud, very impatient 'YES'. I would.

And in a week Legolas would go. He'd come back, maybe often, maybe only in twenty years, but he'd see that I was aging and have to accept I couldn't join him. Draw out whatever it was he was feeling, whatever it was he was waiting for. If I took him back, I'd be harming him, feeding his denial, and … hurting Boromir.

"This is why you're expecting me to stay in Minas Tirith, isn't it?" I asked quietly.

"I am here, to teach your son the ways of my people, but also... if you were to love someone here, it would make it easier for you. Yes." Arwen agreed softly. "Elves may only love one but men are able to love more than one. There is no shame in that."

"Only in hurting him."

"There are some things we must do for those we love."

She didn't stay long after that, she and I ate together, I answered questions about Minas Tirith, and then Arwen had snuck away before Aragorn caught her. Maybe she knew I couldn't handle any more heavy talk. It was easier to explain to her where the fruit and vegetables came from, or the animals, why there was water so high up. I actually didn't know. It was amazing, now that I thought about it, that there were wells of water that were so full and so high up in Minas Tirith without a pumping system. Maybe they'd been carved and filled over winter. That probably meant people had to be careful if winter had less rain than usual. Or was there a massive storage area for water somewhere? I wanted to ask Faramir about it.

I wanted to talk to Boromir too.

Instead, I was dragged out of bed once more by Boromir and Faramir's old nurse, Irati, and taken to a dress-maker. Then to a midwife. Something about a 'second opinion' because they were uncertain about how to birth a child with Elf-blood. Then to a healer for my leg. He actually applied leeches and the guards, who Aragorn had probably sent to 'guard me', ended up holding me down as I tried to kick the healer for being stupid. So what if leeches worked? They were sucking my blood!

It was on my way back, limping once more, in a foul mood that I finally bumped into Boromir. He was in full armour, directing something, hadn't even noticed me. I froze as I watched him in 'job mode', heart constricting, watched the expressions of those who followed and admired him. Even I couldn't deny it.

The man, for all his flaws, was beautiful in his own way. His confidance had everyone in the area, soldier, woman, man and child, competely aware of him. Drew gazes to him, admiration, and as he turned to see me, I somehow got caught up in this 'aura' of his. I should have resented it. Right now though I didn't want to.

"Woman, where were you? I wanted to talk."

"She had things to do, and so do you, so move on." Irati called. She batted at Boromir as he came closer. "Talk in the morning."

"Yeah, the morning." I agreed. I flushed as I felt stares. Heard whispers. Was sure that this, just by us being together, was provoking the rumours.

"The morning it shall be, then." He grinned, this flash of amusement suddenly, and winked as he strode past. He leaned in, sudden, his cold hard metal armour pressing in as he murmured slowly, "Do not go to sleep."

His voice had gotten gruff again. I hesitated as I twisted around to watch him stride off, his shoulders tense, clearly only smiling on the outside. So maybe he was still angry about what I'd said.

It upset me and I stood there numbly as he moved away without a glance back. It wasn't like I'd ignored my doubts to hurt Boromir. Truthfully his opinion didn't really factor at the time. Now though... it kind of did.

"You are to return to your old chambers now." Old chambers? She had to mean the 'princess' ones. I didn't argue, as Irati fussed, my mind was elsewhere. So it was back to the room. A bath waited, reminding me, and I asked as Irati made sure it was warm enough.

"Does it take a long time to make these bathes?"

"Don't worry about that, girl, the warm water is known to assist the discomfort of being with child."

"I haven't really had a lot." Not really.

"Not yet. But your body will begin to swell and we will help the muscles relax as they stretch so that after your health returns faster. Get in."

I got in. Sat there in the path, staring out the window, suddenly so aware once again of Legolas. His grey eyes. His gaze, barely concealing from me his true feelings, and … and the feeling he had. It was like he had his own special aura or something.

Was he out there? I wasn't sure. Somehow I doubted it. It didn't feel like last night, where I'd felt like he was almost on top of my head, it was something else. Magic Elf thing? I wasn't sure. I was sure I felt him though, felt hands on my back, even though when I glanced back there was nothing. Just the sense of the lightest brush across my tense muscles.

Then it was gone and I wondered if I'd imagined it at all.

Irati returned later, re-shaved me, but luckily this process was much faster so I could escape the humiliation within minutes. There was a rich dinner waiting and the fireplace roaring when I came out.

"Do you want to leave tonight?"

"Not really." I admitted. "I might sit in front of the fire and ...relax."

"May as well let you stay in your nightgown now then." Irati decided for me. Once again I didn't have the energy to argue. She shoved it at me, the pretty basic 'throat to ankle' thing, and I was left to eat and do relax as I wanted.

When she was gone and I was left alone, I remained in the room, staring out into the darkening city from the high chambers.

"Woman. Quick." Boromir's voice with his knocking interrupted the peace before I could begin to eat or think. I hurried to my feet as he hissed, "Before the old woman skins me alive. Qu-"

I opened the door and he slid in, fast, grasping the key and locking it himself. Then he turned on me. I braced myself for his anger, tensing, opening my mouth to tell him everything that I'd been told once he'd said what he needed to.

Boromir grasped my head hard, pushing me against the wall, and kissed me hard. His knee pinned me, keeping my legs apart, tongue invading my mouth with some pent up desire that made his entire body shake.

"I have … decided." He growled softly, shaking his head. "If you are not sure then I am."

He backed up, slowly, as he reached up for his shirt. Boromir started to unbutton it slowly. I couldn't breathe. My chest was hammering open, mouth open, lips bruised.

His eyes grazed over the clothing I wore. Night gown, right to my ankles and as high as my throat, somehow suddenly became the sexiest thing the man had ever seen.

Then he reached for his belt, my eyes widening, breath hitching as I watched his fingers easily unloop it and it dangled there, open, almost loose. No second belt. He was serious. And... rather than scare me, it made me feel strangely breathless. Somewhere in the back of my mind was the logic, the reason, the 'No, don't, we just have to talk …'

One of Boromir's hands suddenly grasped my wrist, pulling me against him and effectively cutting off logic, his other hand cupping the back of my head as his mouth claimed mine hard.

The kiss was crazy, hard, his tongue finding mine, and I felt our bodies backing up. I felt dizzy suddenly, his hands releasing my wrist and head, and picking me up.

"I have waited..." He breathed against my mouth, as he walked, my mind too light to think, "...to hear you admit it was a mistake. Do you know how long it tortured me to not have this?"

"I don't know..." I didn't know if it was right, if it was time, if I could … I didn't know! Did he want me to love him first? Because I didn't. I wanted to speak, I tried to speak, and when I started he cut me off very fast.

"I see your mind forming an argument. Quiet, woman, and trust _me_." He kissed me hard again, and suddenly I was dropped onto the bed, and Boromir was kneeling between my legs, something silver flashing in the candle light. A knife. He was literally cutting the nightgown off, impatience in his face as it didn't cut, and he grasped either side of the nightgown. With a huge tug he ripped it clean in two, parting it, his breathing hard as his hungry eyes devoured everything he'd wanted. Tunic split down the middle, shoved to either side, lips kissing my breasts, his palm sliding along the side of my leg.

And, even with all my uncertainty, I was loosing the willpower to think. To be logical.

Boromir inhaled slowly as he stared down at me, drawing either half to one side, his hand grasping my leg and pulling it up so my legs were opening. When I tried to close them Boromir grasped my other leg, forced both open, and knelt between them. He bent over me to kiss me again, hard, his hips grinding into mine.

Something crashed to one side, something falling somewhere, but his body was crushing mine. Something hard against my thigh, as his legs slid up, his pants sliding down his own thighs, his leg hair tickling my bare skin.

"Wait, this could be..." Logic finally managed to get a word in edgewise. Logic, who hadn't forgotten Legolas, or confusion, or claustrophobia... and before I could say it, those words I knew would stop him, he kissed me hard with a soft growl.

"If it is a mistake then I will make it with no regrets." He cut me off so fast, his breathing fast, before I felt that hardness push against me. Boromir's eyes were on face, his fingers between my legs as he opened me. He groaned as he found what he was looking for, as the head slowly slid in.

I opened my mouth to argue, to protest, to stop, and he crushed my lips with his, using his whole body to pin me down. With a rough thrust he claimed me, and I cried out into his mouth, as his body starting to thrust with hard deep thrusts that betrayed how long he'd waited. There was nothing tender about it. I was being fucked hard, all his stress in it, all his frustration, as if he HAD to claim me this way. Teeth bit a nipple and the sense of being so quickly … him being rough so fast... it hurt and I cried out in pain, cringing. Boromir stiffened.

Then suddenly he was tender, slower, an arm coming to hold me against him, a hand sliding up my thigh slowly. His kisses grow slow, Boromir's breathing hard against me, and when I tentatively reached up to cup his face, I felt his whole body shudder in delight.

"Forgive me... I love you." He breathed, grinding up into me with the words, leaning on his elbows so that I wasn't so crushed. "Long … long have I waited... and I love you. I love you more than my life itself. Let me have you."

My body reacted, slowly, but as his movements grew slow and purposeful, I felt it finally start to catch up to him. It was wrong, it was so wrong, because I had this horrible feeling that I couldn't live up to Boromir'rs needs either...

But logic couldn't overcome the feelings in my heart, in my body, it was drowned.

I could barely hear it. I shut my eyes, his lips grazing mine before he started to kiss the side of my neck, his hands drawing my hips up higher as his movement grew rougher slowly, his eyes fixed on my face.

Hands grasped me gently and Boromir drawing me up into his lap to my shock, and I opened my eyes as I was pulled into his arms. He paused, still within me, his eyes shutting as he breathed out a long ragged breath. Slowly he tugged the nightgown off me. At some point he'd taken off his shirt. Boromir pressed kisses against my shoulder again, slowly, one arm looked around my waist as he cupped my face.

"_Move_." He pleaded softly. "Care for me in return, with your body, even if you cannot do it yet with your voice."

When I didn't move, Boromir didn't give up, only slid his other arm around me. "I will not move. I do not ask for that place where your Elf is. Only... allow me a little place within your heart as well." His fingers traced up my back, slowly, his eyes fixed in mine, and it had to kill him to not move... I could feel his body inside me, feel it move of its own accord, his thigh muscles twitching as if they were trying to begin again without him. "Love me a little. You need not love me as I do you, not yet, for I have enough for us both. Move just once and I will take over once more. Or move away and I will... I will not follow."

I shut my eyes. I couldn't help it. I wanted to love him back. I wanted, just once, to see someone happy. Someone satisfied. Slowly, I slid up, and the motion made his arms tense before he released them so I could move. His heart pounded hard against his chest- I could feel it through my own chest.

The sad truth was he did have a place in my heart. And the sheer IDEA of shoving him out of there broke my heart. It was all I had left. The place Legolas had been given, almost everything, was still in pieces.

This wasn't just about Boromir. The truth was... I had to let Legolas go in every way. And some part of me needed something. Someone. I was using Boromir to comfort me and ...right now, however wrong that was, I couldn't fight it.

When I sunk down again, when I gave in, a shudder of relief rushed through him hand he clasped my face with both hands to kiss me again and again, our bodies and noses bumping as we both started to move, an error that was so human that it made me want to laugh and chased away the grief that had threatened to build. Human. Mortal. He'd never be perfect. His cheeks, not shaven, tickled my face, his leg hair tickled my thighs, and when I tentatively touched his back, I found marked skin. Scars, a light covering of chest hair, hard muscles that retracted as I touched them.

This time we both took over, a minute before we figured out how to do it without bumping awkwardly against the other, and his lips didn't leave mine a second as I stayed in his lap. Relief flooded me as something, some kind of pleasure, managed to build up... I was afraid I couldn't manage it... and when Boromir stiffened, groaned, and came inside me, I kissed him, which seemed to add to his pleasure. It took me a minute after him, his hand there to help, and I groaned softly against his neck.

His arms slowly lowered me back onto the bed, careful, and Boromir flopped beside me. "I..." His head flopped and he shut his eyes. "I am not so fast normally. It has been so long..."

It had seemed like hours but truthfully it had only taken five minutes, I realised, or something like that. It was kind of funny. I would have laughed if I could breathe. Could think. "I...I'm not either. Usually."

Boromir laughed, shaking his head, bending over me to trace his fingers across my side. He stared at me, at _naked_ me, without any attempt to hide what he was doing, and suddenly I felt so damn shy. I mean, I had so many scars, and …

He grasped for the sheet as I eyed it, tossing it aside, and kicked away the blankets. Boromir grasped my face, kissing me with such tenderness that my heart broke, again and again, his grin splitting his face. "Warriors do not feel shame over scars. Let me see them."

"Yeah, yeah." I groaned as he rolled me over, apparently all energised again, a yawn splitting my face as his hands slid down my back slowly. The gentle touching was lulling me into a sleep. "I suppose I won tonight's duel then."

"What makes you think such a lie?" He was laughing though, just a soft exhale of air, before he slid down to lie beside me, hand still tracing up and down my back.

"I was on top and I came first." The words were so natural, the idea such a good one, that I surprised myself. I twisted around as he started to bend over my back, grinning up at him. "So either you did not duel me tonight or you lost."

"I did not loose."

"Then you chickened out of a duel."

"I was not afraid either. Do you know hard it was to come here and to do this?"

Boy did I know. I grinned wider, tempted to suggest JUST how hard it had been, but decided against it. "Then I won."

"Woman, if I could, I would hold you down and make sure you know who's stronger." Boromir grasped my arms, half amused and half annoyed, which just increased my desire to tease him more. He leaned down to kiss me hard, pressing half his body on mine, and held me down when I tried to slip away.

"Too late...I'm the man of this relationship for the next day." I grinned, wriggling, and tested. Biting Boromir's neck did amazing things to his eyes.

"Then I demand we duel once more. Tomorrow night."

"Fine. I'll win." I twisted over before he could answer, back to him, and despite the deep seated anxiety had to admit I felt kind of warm right now. The idea of him being back...

It wasn't such a bad feeling.

"Sleep." Boromir's voice had softened, as he slid down to stroke my back again, I felt his scratchy chin start to kiss the back of my bare shoulder once more. An arm crossed over my back and he rested his chin on the back of my shoulder. "I will wait till you have fallen asleep."

"I'm in charge." I muttered. It felt nice though, being held, being touched, and added, "So keep doing that." It didn't take long to fall asleep like that.

I woke to the smell of food. Bacon, eggs, bread, fresh bread that must have just been baked, and the sight of Boromir wandering around trying to be 'quiet'. Failing, as usual, the poor man just wasn't light enough to pull it off.

The sight of him, shirtless, relaxed, even happy, it provoked a strange sense of peace and anxiety. Guilt and relief. I … I wasn't sure how to do it. How to love him. It wasn't that I didn't feel peace with him, I really did, but it was the weight of Legolas' and I that clung onto any potential happiness like a persistent monkey.

I still had to face him. I'd been avoiding him and I suspected he was doing the same. I kept seeing the look on his face when I'd told him, when he'd walked out without another word, and ...even with the warmth Boromir brought, it was this part of me that just stayed raw and open.

How could I spend three seconds with Leggy without deciding to abandon his future? I couldn't do that. So I was afraid of facing him properly. Afraid of telling him about Boromir. Cutting him off finally for once and all. But then last night, when I'd let Boromir do that, I'd known. I'd decided it last night.

I sighed softly and slid across the sheets, slowly, so that I was across the edge of the bed.

"What are yo-" I paused, yawning, as he flinched. "Cooking?"

"Breakfast. Did I wake you?"

"I don't know." I wasn't bothered by that. I stood up, slowly, and cringed. Ow. Sprained muscle somewhere. It amused me and I stood there, tugging a sheet around me, tucking it before I went to sit beside the fire. It was still raining outside. "Does it rain all spring?"

"It will rain until almost the start of summer, as it always does, but when the rain grows warm you know it is soon to end." Boromir responded. He added as he removed the frying pan from the metal grate over the fire, "Tis not a bad thing for the more rain we get now, the more water we are able to have during summer, and the higher the river. Do you swim?"

"I love swimming."

"What do women of your world wear to swim though? You cannot be nude, can you?" Boromir blinked. His gaze went over the sheet, suddenly, and I had to assume he was thinking abut swimming nude with me. Yeah. That could have been fun. My cheeks heated as he slid closer, an arm wrapping around my waist, kissing my shoulder. "Yes. You can."

"I have to think. Don't distract me." I grumbled as he tugged me into his lap, literally planting me on top of him, Boromir back to planting soft kiss after kiss against the back of my neck and shoulders.

"You must talk to Legolas."

Argh. Stupid observant man. I nodded as he held me tighter, this hug that made me all emotional, because this wasn't something he should have even had to worry about. "I already did. It wouldn't have made any difference if …"

"If I were here." Boromir didn't sound hurt. He just sounded … I didn't know. Serious all of a sudden. "Nay, it would not. And I swear to uphold what I said last night. I would not, not now, not on my deathbed, believe I could even come close to that place he is. But I will support you until then."

"Sorry. You deserve someone with you competely."

"You are. If you were not, I would not see the hurt in you." Boromir twisted me around, slowly, only pausing to check that nothing in the frying pan had burnt. He cupped my face and kissed my lips, again and again, fingers tangled in my hair. "Would you want me nearby when you talk with him?"

"I don't know." I didn't. Was that mean to Legolas? "...Maybe... maybe Aragorn should be. Because..."

"Because I am your lover."

I nodded. Boromir sighed and shut his eyes as he rested his head against my forehead. "As you wish, Captain Wenduin."

"Captain?"

"We agreed, did we not? You bested me in bed and so, in private, you are the Captain today." Even though he was trying to be serious I could see that smile creeping across his face. Boromir apparently liked that game. He added, "I will be glad to take it from you tonight."

"Good luck."

"I just ask that when I am on duty, you treat me as any other soldier would, with the resepct of my rank." Boromir lifted his head. "And I will see about allowing you to join us when you have safely given birth."

"Seriously? Won't that shock Minas Tirith?"

"It will." Oh, he liked that idea, his grin widening. "And I will love to be apart of it. A female archer joining her lover during the hunt for Orc. It will upset many."

"Especially when everyone's daughters start to want to do it too." But I felt my own body relax. I smiled weakly. It was kind of amusing, now that I thought about it, that I'd be treated equally. I wouldn't have let him do anything else.

"A daughter born of our blood should be allowed no less than the right to fight." Boromir murmered.

A daughter? Our daughter? I stared up at him.

That was right. This thing. It wasn't just a fling. It was life. I'd known it, of course I had, I'd always felt that. That I'd happily grow old beside this man. I hadn't even conciously thought about what that meant. "Marriage. Children. I have to marry anyway."

"Are you proposing to me?" Boromir grinned. "Because if so, I happily accept."

"I ..." I shoved him hard. "Men are supposed to do that."

"Aye, and you are the man for today. Thank you, you have made me the happiest maiden in all these fair lands." Boromir grunted in pain when I smacked him playfully. "You should not hit a woman!"

"You're a _woman_ in a man's body."

"Am I?" He shoved me back, suddenly, rough... but also careful to not knock my head on the fire. Boromir bent over me, my legs still sprawled around his legs, and carefully unwrapped the sheet. "Then you will not mind if I-"

A hard and angry sounding knocking at the door made him groan and his head flop. Bang, bang, bang, and Irati's very sharp, very angry sounding, "Boromir, if you are in there, I will skin you alive and feed you to the crows!"

"The first we should tell is that woman." Boromir groaned and flopped his head on my shoulder. "I beg you for the safety of my skin."

"Your _nurse_."

"Do not remind me."

"Boromir!"

"Should I climb out the window?" He wondered, sliding up, and eyed the window.

He didn't get time to think about it. There was a sudden sound of the door being unlocked and Irati bursting in.

It really didn't take a genius to guess what we'd been up to last night. I was still lying there, sheet barely covering my naked body, and my legs were sprawled across his thighs. I felt like a naughty teenager... caught with her boyfriend.

So naturally it was Boromir who copped it. She shoved the door shut and went at him, the little old woman easily roughing him to sit down on the bed as she gave him an earful. Between his lecture I was more or less ordered to go into the bathing room and bathe.

It was safer to do what she told me. I dressed in a hurry, pants, tunic, my usual stuff and came out to find the poor man being still verbally whipped, without a chance to tell her, so I cut in,

"We're marrying."

Irati paused. Her eyes went from him to me, raising an eyebrow, before she eyed my stomach. "I should expect so. But to sneak into your room. Do you want to damage her reputation? There will be whispers that the child is not yours!"

"Well, it isn't." I reminded her. It wasn't. And truthfully I didn't want anyone to believe that. I'd rather a bad reputation than Legolas not having that. It was his son. Boromir … I didn't know what we'd have. I didn't know if we'd have anything. "It's Legolas' son."

"And I know this! But ..."

"There is little chance they'd mistake a half-elf for mine." Boromir managed to sit up, slowly, though he stayed low. Probably ready to duck if she hit him again. He reached out to grasp my hand, pulling me against him, arm around my waist. "I could not take the place of his father."

Irati's eyes went from his face to mine. Something in her face softened. She sighed and threw up her hands. "Then I will talk to Faramir-"

"No." Boromir said quickly. He gazed up at me. "Not until she is ready."

He knew I had to talk to Legolas first. I sighed and felt the anxiety of the world start to creep in again. Oh god. I'd have given anything for that moment to be over already. It was like I had to go break his heart all over again. Mine too.

Irati nodded. I'd expected more, a fight, insisting we marry right now, I didn't know. But instead she was heading to the fireplace and was finsihing the breakfast herself, grumbling softly, glancing back at us. That softness was back in her face. It reminded me that, however hard she was on him, she'd helped raised him.

"Faramir will be married the day before the corrination." Irati said as she started to slide things onto bowls. "It would not hurt to join him. I could hide your marriage until the last minute, should it come to that, and Faramir would help."

"Marry together?" Boromir met my eyes and checked with me first, wordlessly, waiting.

I sighed. At least... at least it gave me so many days to get my chick-balls on and face Legolas. Or something like that. I wasn't sure how this would work even now. How he'd be the father of a baby if he wasn't here. Or how I'd … I didn't know.

But I nodded and Boromir squeezed my legs.

"Then we should. But do not speak too much of it."

"Of course. Now!" She snapped back into action, suddenly, as she pushed plates at us. "Both of you eat, and then Boromir, _leave_."

He stayed as long as he could, lingering around, but the second he'd put the last mouthful of food into his mouth Irati kicked him out. Then she had me re-dress in a gown. Checked my stomach, my muscles, pressing in, feeling for my baby.

"You are doing well." She informed me. "Your child grows even through this hard time."

"If he's half as stubborn as me then of course he does." I muttered. It was kind of strange though. I had been stubborn before here, before Rivendell, but it had always been internal. It had always been about 'enduring' or 'surviving'. In my world that meant I had to stay quiet, head down, and let people tell me what was best. And it had worked. But here? I'd suddenly had to take care of myself or get a blade in my skull.

"Then you are sure it is a son?"

"Yeah. I've dreamed about him." More than that, really, I'd seen visions of the boy. Cute kid. I breathed out slowly as a wave of affection filled me. My cute kid. That vision had Legolas in it. Maybe … maybe he'd get to see his father more than I thought. Maybe ...maybe somehow Legolas could be in his life.

"Many a mother dreams of her child." Irati sat down in front of me. "You have not had nausea?"

"Not really. When I get upset."

"Ah. You get upset a lot?"

Well, yeah, but I had a pretty good reason to. I nodded and she seemed relieved that at least I was having ONE normal thing about a pregnancy. "I guess so."

"Then you should drink more water. It will help your body remove emotions."

It would also mean I'd have to use the chamberpot more but ..I didn't argue. Just nodded as she stood up and made me drink two glasses there in front of her. She left me alone after a while, after promising to get some clothing altered for me, taking two or three dresses with her.

I headed outside after a while. My room felt suffocating. Almost the second I left the building, the second I stepped into warm sunlight, I felt him. Just behind me. Right beside the door. Had he been waiting all this time? Turning slowly, my eyes met grey, and found only a mask hiding his real emotions. Whatever he was feeling … I knew. Aragorn or not. It was time for us to talk.

Legolas turned and started inside. My heart sank as I followed him inside, silent, heart sinking in dread.

* * *

A/N To the Legolas fans- don't loose hope. In a review someone suggested I do a split... both couples.

So if I can find a way to keep them together, I will. :D


	27. Learning to accept

No shoelaces to tie.

I followed him quietly, wishing I had something to delay me. Like shoelaces. Or … a sprained ankle. No. That wouldn't work. Legolas would probably offer to help and that would mean touching. Touching would mean …

I wanted to turn and run suddenly. I didn't want to let Boromir down. Instead I let Legolas lead me out a small side door in the big building I slept in, through a little courtyard, and into a smaller building. The Minas Tirith version of a shed, I supposed, or a bungalow. Or something. Stone, not much bigger than a shed, a small bed. The same rich kind of furnishings as the main building but … smaller. Compact.

His bow was on a table, arrows in two piles, the repaired ones and the ones that needed repairing. I noticed that they'd been used. I stepped in a few feet, past him, and gazed at them. Orc blood was on a number of the still damanged arrows.

"You've been out..."

"There has been small Orc attacks that the Elves are aiding in keeping down until the coronation is safely over." Legolas responded softly. He waited until I was completely in the room before he turned to shut the door with a soft click.

Silence fell. We stared at each other, silent, several feet apart, but it may have as well been inches. Was it possible to feel the energy of another person? Elf? I wasn't sure but it felt that way. He looked okay. Looked normal. Hair was groomed. That was a good sign. Legolas moved closer, slowly, and looked hurt when I flinched.

"I ..." I trailed off, reaching out with one hand, and then stared away. I didn't know what to say. He didn't look hurt. But I was sure I felt it.

"Would you choose to live the long life of an Elf, if you had the choice?" He said quietly. A hand rested down on a chair, light, as he stared out a small window.

"Leggy-ol..olas." I frowned and scolded myself. Stupid automatic nickname. "Legolas. I … I can't make that choice." It wasn't one I had.

"But would you?"

"I don't know. I guess I would." I mean, who wouldn't? But it didn't change the facts. I kind of wished he'd overheard Arwen talking with Elrond or … overheard something that had more or less made it clear to him it wasn't going to happen. That would have made this so much easier. "But I'm going to get old."

I half expected him to argue. Nothing. He was so mute, so masked, that it was making me nervous. Not in the way Boromir did when he'd gotten worked up or drunk, I didn't feel like Legolas would snap, but in a different way.

He muttered something in Elvish. It did not help any attempts at trying to figure out what to say or do.

The seconds turned into minutes. After a while I sat down, I had to, careful to not cut myself on one of the sharpened arrows. Watched his back. What was I waiting for? Him to tell me what to do? I supposed so. As soon as I realised this I knew that wasn't what I could accept. I couldn't … let people make choices for me.

Was I making choices for him or for us?

I supposed in a way I was doing both. Was that right? I hesitated, quiet, and said softly, "Um. I … I'm not telling you to … do anything." Just accept it all? That would be so much easier. I had this feeling he still hadn't accepted it.

"Then you will accept that I would not leave you?"

"No." More silence. I wasn't sure what to do, what to say, because yeah. It was equally about him. I didn't want to make decisions FOR him. I wrung my hands against the dress, staring down, heart banging hard in my throat. "I … I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

The answer didn't even need to be said. He knew. I saw his shoulders tense, his face harden, and the confusion bleed through whatever connection we had. Of course I loved him.

"Leggy, I-" Why couldn't this be simple? Legolas should have … I didn't know, be all accepting, and all kind, and … "This really can't happen. I'll age. You'll be away doing things. I might see you once a year, probably a lot less than that, and-"

"Would you not wait for me?"

Of course I fucking would. All the time. And the answer made me hurt more because I'd already decided, damnit, I'd already decided WHO. If this was even an opition... wouldn't Lord Elrond have suggested it? Or not? Legolas may have been gone for a lot longer than a year, particularly when his son was grown up and in Rivendel or Mirkwood.

"I would be a reason for you to be distracted more. Leggy, you can't keep coming back every month, every six months... if you did, what's the point?"

"I do not mind you as a distraction."

He still hadn't turned to face me. His arms had crossed, his stance tense, voice sharp as if he was close to being angry. Was he angry? _That_ I couldn't tell.

I felt so tired. I stared back down at the floor. Wooden planks, polished, and another of those 'works of art' carpets that sat under a small bed against the wall. The stone walls were carved with the same shape, each brick matching, some kind of flower. It reminded me of an Elven style, a little, but equally it was human.

"You might not mind but the forests might." As soon as I said the words I knew how fruity and weird they were. The forests? Seriously? I waited for him to laugh or to argue. He didn't. Legolas' shoulders actually slumped at that and he sighed, a long deep sigh.

"They would."

_Seriously_?

"There are so many forests who are wounded. Angry." Legolas moved only now, sitting down on the bed in front of me, his head in his hands. He was seriously saddened. I wasn't sure what to think. "And my kin should not leave Middle Earth until they are healed."

"You wanted me to come with you?"

"Yes."

"With a baby. Barely able to walk. Growing older."

Lgeolas didn't' answer.

I had to forget 'deciding for his good'. I rested my head in my hands now, rubbing my forehead with my palms, and however much I wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to love him silly, I just felt too exhausted. I felt … my instinct said... it wasn't going to be okay.

"Even an Elf grows old." Legolas said quietly. "In their mind. Their body will always show this."

"But I'll be old in fifty years." I reminded him quietly.

"Would you not choose to live a long life of the Elf-kin?"

"If I had the choice, like I said, yes. But I don't. I do have the choice to … to live here. To keep our baby safe, until he's old enough to join you."

"With Boromir."

He knew then. I couldn't answer.

"Leggy, it can't happen."

"I know." He turned, slowly, and finally the mask was gone. Finally I saw it, and it was a relief and hart to face, because it was a hurt I'd caused. Something in his eyes wasn't there any more. A glow or something. "Were Boromir not here-"

"I'd probably just live on my own." I muttered. "I don't know why he's different. I can't explain it. Arwen said he was sent back by the Valar. Or something. I think she meant that … that they decided it was fine."

Another long drawn out silence.

Legolas stood up suddenly. He sighed, another deep sigh, tension fading from his body. "Are you sure of that?"

A nod.

"We knew." I said quietly. "You knew."

"I... I did. Our fates are strange. Even I can not tell what to expect. I hoped this meant... we were free to create."

I guessed not.

We sat there quietly, sadness crippling me, and I stood up. I had to get out of here before I … before I caved in. When he didn't stop me, when he didn't even make a move to hold me, I slipped out the door.

Aragorn caught me just inches from the door, holding a finger to his mouth, and the secnd I'd shut the door he'd grasped me in a hug that shocked me. He was massive, so much taller than myself, but … it was a relief to be hugged. I leaned against him, breathing in and out as slow as I could, in a desperate attempt to control myself. If I started crying again I doubted Legolas would stand in there much longer.

He nodded towards the end of the courtyard, a clear 'keep going', and went to put his hand on the door. I breathed out slowly. Okay. Legolas had Aragorn.

Gimli, too, I realised, when I felt a smaller stocky body suddenly grab me in an embrace too.

Then they were gone and I saw a guard waiting for me. Okay. Maybe they'd been keeping an eye out for this. Somehow, given how close we all were, that wasn't THAT big a surprise. So where was...

There he was.

Boromir waited some fifty metres away, leaning against a building, still in his armour. He didn't come to me, he waited silently, and when I reached his side he reached out to squeeze my shoulders with one metal-clad arm.

"I don't know how well that went." I muttered. Even for me. I pushed his arm up, quick, because armour was not the most comfortable thing to be pressed into, and glanced back. Was that his house or had he borrowed it? I wasn't exactly sure. It was really just a distraction from the bigger question. Did he accept it or didn't he?

Did _I_ accept it?

I still wasn't even sure about that myself.

"Did you tell him we were marrying?"

I blinked at Boromir's question. I hadn't even thought about telling him that. Guilt rose up as Boromir's face fell. "I... sorry. Second I was in there I … my brain just went foggy. I didn't really know what to say."

Boromir sighed. He started forward, ahead of me, and I followed close behind. I supposed we had to resume 'distance' until Legolas knew, to try and avoid spreading the news till Legolas knew, but I kind of wished he'd walk beside me.

Ah well.

We didn't go to my chambers. Instead we ended up inside the Hall, in one of the side rooms, food already waiting. Lunch time already? How long had Legolas and I been sitting in there?

I sat down, numb, still wishing I could curl up and go back to sleep.

"The Lady Galadriel reassured me all would be well." Boromir sat down beside me, shifting restlessly until he was satisfied he could sit with his armour, a bowl of fruit in one hand and a drink in the other. "Eat, woman."

"Captain."

"Only in your chambers." He lowered his voice, his hand grasping my thigh, squeezing it. Boromir leaned forward, or tried to, but his armour more or less made it impossible. He grumbled and stood up once more. "What are you hungry for?"

"Nothing. Fruit. Water."

"Wenduin! You need more than just fruit." Boromir growled softly. His head swung suddenly towards the doors, barking at the guards at the door, "Leave us!"

The second they were gone, Boromir slammed the door shut, and turned on me. "I will force you to eat real food if you do not eat it yourself."

"I'm not hungry much for anything."

"And this is why I do not like what he does to you." Boromir was tugging off his ...whatever those things over his hands and wrists were, tugging them aside, and swearing softly as he tried to unhook and throw the big metal plates off his shoulders. "You have the face of a walking dead once more."

I shrugged and stared away. Boromir growled softly and focused on trying to get his armour off. , I could see it building up in his face. Anger fueled by concern. He was not impressed.

Boromir managed to finally get his chest armour off and threw it to one side. There was another red velvet shirt underneath, similar to the one he'd worn for months, and the chain mail sewn to the ends. He knelt, the metallic rustle of the chain mail skirt getting in his way, and grasped my head.

Jealousy.

I stared at him as he stared up at me, one of his hands impatiently shoving the chain mail out of the way of his knee, fingers brushing the hair out of my face.

"Love that sickens you is not love."

"Don't tell me what to feel." I muttered.

"I am not. I do not doubt that you love him. But you are sick."

Yeah, yeah. That was pretty much telling me what I was. I sighed and shut my eyes. Okay. I felt sick. I felt exhausted, actually, and leaned my forehead against his shoulder. "I'm tired."

He sighed as well and his arms came around to hug me hard, heavy metal only adding to the strength of his embrace, and I shuddered as his body shielded me once more. \

"I know it's not fair to you or him."

"Or you."

I'd decided. Last night. I tried to hang onto it.

Boromir moved back as a knock at the door startled us both. He stood up, slowly, his fingertips tracing across my face. "I am not the one in a battle. I am the quiet place you can come back to."

"Quiet." I snorted. Sure. "You're my other battle ground."

"Then I am the place you may come back to for some energy." He smiled somewhat. Boromir headed for the door and unlocked it, checking, before he threw the door open wide as his face cracked open with a relieved smile. He held out his arms. "Lady Eowyn! My sister!"

My heart leapt at the words and I stood up, fast, as Eowyn brushed past him to head for me with a, "Not yet, Lord Boromir. Wendy. Aragorn sent for me."

I hugged her hard, her hug just as hard as mine, before she turned onto Boromir with a sharp, "Take your armour out of here."

"She would not eat."

"And you create more rumours by being alone in here with her. The strain of her reputation should not also be resting on her shoulders at this time! Go!" She gestured at him.

Boromir grunted but he didn't argue. He bent down, gathering armfuls of his armour in his arms, and headed outside.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, as she turned back to me, but I could see the answer. She was in stained clothing, mud still over the long dress, pants visable underneath, her hair slightly crazy.

"Not more than a few minutes before Aragorn sent for me. The message said you would explain. Where are your chambers? I will share them with you."

"Boromir won't like that." I muttered.

"He will survive, somehow, I am sure." She didn't even raise an eyebrow. A movement at the door made us both turn, the guards returning to stand there, and Eowyn didn't miss a beat. "Have food brought to her chambers."

"Yes, my lady." A nod, a half-bow, which was probably all their stiff armour would let them do.

She grasped my hand and we headed back outside, across the courtyard, passing Eomer. He nodded to me before he turned back to his men, calling orders, horses still being unsaddled. Aragorn was with him again now, Faramir close by, Eowyn's step faltering into a stop as she caught Faramir's gaze.

"Faramir might not like it either." I added, finding some energy return at this, and saw her cheeks flush.

"He will also have to survive." Eowyn responded. She softened though, her face warming in a smile, and it was a moment or two before she seemed able to continue. "I will see him tonight."

"Alone?"

"At the feast."

Feast. Oh. Great. I groaned softly at the idea of being at a feast.

"Do not look so tired. It would not be a large one." Eowyn nudged me in the side. "Where are your chambers?"

"Oh. This way."

I led her down the stairs and to the door. Inside, everything had been tided, the bed back to normal and sheets changed again, food and frying pan long gone. Fresh flowers and fruit.

"It is beautiful." Eowyn said softly. "Much larger than any room I have seen."

"Princess chambers. I suppose they had to be pretty."

"What has happened between you and the Elf?"

Great. Straight to the main topic.

I explained it, quickly, which wasn't good enough. Eowyn questioned me, probed, asked again when I didn't answer good enough, and the second the food was there she stared at me with this 'If you don't eat...' expression that was similar to Boromir's one. Funny how alike they were.

"You love Legolas?"

I'd already answered this but I nodded again, trying to swallow food without cholking on it.

"You love Boromir?"

"_Yes_." My answer surprised me. Not like Legolas. But I supposed I did, in a way, and that just made it worse. "I don't know."

"Then you must decide. If it is Legolas, then you must make it clear to Boromir, and if it is Boromir..."

"Marry him?"

Eowyn nodded. She wasn't totally sympathetic either. "Would you wish for Legolas to still have doubt?"

"Not really. No."

"If he can not accept it now, then he will, and you said yourself. The fate is not one you are involved with." Eowyn's voice softened. "I do not know the believes of Elves. But if Lord Elrond has already spoken with you..."

"I know. But he's … special."

"And he will be until the day you die. But you can not join him from next week on."

"No, I can't." There was pretty much no way. Even if I went to Mirkwood, even if I moved into his culture, I'd be there alone more than I would be with him. I sighed.

"You already have decided then."

"I..." I really didn't want to talk about this anymore. "Yeah. I need to think."

She raised her eyes but didn't probe.

Time machine. That was what I needed.

It wasn't that I regretted it. It was that... I didn't know. I regretted that I'd given into Legolas. Wouldn't it have been easier if we'd felt like this but had never actually acted on it? But then the baby? Would I redo that?

Probably not.

That night Eowyn slept in a bed brought in for her. There was more than enough room in this massive room, hers a few feet from mine, the same 'four poster' style right down to the fabric used for curtains. It was amazing how fast they'd put it up given how basic their tools were. But maybe they had … I didn't know. A storeroom of them. Okay. Probably not. But we were gone a few hours, Eowyn and I went for a walk to 'train', and by the time we'd returned hers was ready as well.

She was asleep fast and I lay there a long time, listening to the rain and the wind, breathing in and out slowly.

Boromir came in a few hours after she'd fallen asleep. I saw him, I watched him, watched him through the curtains as his eyes went from my bed to hers, as his face fell, and his hasty retreat. Yep.

He and I didn't get time alone for the next few days. And it showed on his face. One night with me and apparently he couldn't wait to get some more. Instead, he and I had to keep our distance, suddenly going all 'medieval' apparently. Or something. If we went anywhere together, we had an escort, and no kissing.

Boromir actually lost his temper ith the 'escort', a pair of guards and an older woman from the kitchen, at one point after I'd teased him a little bit. Nothing much- just a little bit of bare leg, flashed, a little bit of cleavage as I bent down to retrieve a flower, dribbling water down my front by 'accident'... and also, maybe licking a spoonful of honey and accidentally dribbling that too...

Boromir had gone steadily redder in the face, the more I'd teased, and by the time I got to honey on one of my increasingly ample bosoms, he'd looked like he wanted to pin me against a wall then and there and lick it off himself.

But besides that amusement, I didn't get much chance to think, because suddenly I had things to do. Eowyn expected us to ride together, ignoring my protests about a weak leg, and so we did. A lot. Then there was the need for a 'wedding gown' that could double as a gown I'd wear at the coronation. Eowyn in my room meant that Boromir was suddenly forced to keep his distance- she was usually close by- and Legolas? Not sure. He was keeping his distance too. I had to guess he was with the Elves again.

His question haunted me and maybe that was why I wasn't so upset about Boromir not getting time alone with me.

Wouldn't I wait for him?

Would I? Would I wait a year, three years, between his visits to Minas Tirith? Or Mirkwood?

Stupid question. If that was the only problem, waiting for Legolas, the answer would have been YES. But there was so much more to it. Where I'd live, for one, because while I was comfortable here, if I was here but not with Boromir...

Even if I hadn't given into him that would have been difficult for him. And me. Because I really did care about him.

In Mirkwood, on the other hand... Elvish speaking Elves, different culture, and all that …

And what about his life? Would he die when I did? Yeah. He would. Also something I knew. I had all the answers now.

I swore softly, grasping my head, trying to stop my brain from swirling these details around again. Fuck. Fuck. Yes. I had ALL the details. I'd already decided. Whenever I tried to will the power to go back to Legolas and make it clear, things happened, or I sprained my leg worse, and it was like I was finding excuses to avoid it all the time. It was too easy to find excuses.

"Wendy, concentrate." Eowyn said softly as I fell forward in a painful heap, rolling my leg when I stopped concentrating on moving it right, jabbing me rather than help me up. "Do not show weakness now. It will be remembered later when you return to duty as a soldier."

I groaned softly as she strode away. Not even a help up. Slowly I stood, ignoring the stares we always got, and followed after her. From the moment I'd told her Boromir wanted me to serve, regardless of being a woman, Eowyn had been on my case. She was probably right too.

The days slipped by so fast though. The day before the wedding came up and before I knew it, Eowyn and I were testing the final wedding gowns, each of us in different shades of gold, golden jewellery tested on us, and Legolas still didn't know.

It felt bizarre. Strange. Unreal, somehow, like this wasn't really happening. Legolas weighted on my mind so heavily that I felt numb, really numb, and I struggled to think. Only when Aragorn promiced to bring Legolas to me the next morning, the morning of the wedding, did I seem to really get some acceptance of what was happening. Sort of.

That night, the night before the wedding, I dreamed of Legolas.

He knelt beside me in the bed, that warm smile on his face, that warm affectionate smile that he used to have all the time around me. And when I saw it, I cried, but not with grief. It was something else. It was like all the relief, the joy, it just bubbled over into this endless fountain of tears. Legolas hadn't smiled at me like this for weeks. Since Rohan. He hadn't looked so relaxed as he did now. It was like everything was fine. Everything was okay.

"We are the same." He whispered, softly, reaching down to stroke my face, thumbs brushing away the tears. "Our fate is the same."

His hands were cold. His energy was different. Everything was different. As he kissed me, my forehead, my cheeks, over and over and over, I understood suddenly why. And the peace, the relief, it shattered. Instead there was only horror. Anger. Rage at him.

Then I saw Boromir. It was so strange. He was as angry with Legolas as I felt. He was shouting at him, over and over, What had he _done_?

The cold hands weren't the problem. Legolas had cold hands before. The problem was that I felt something had changed in him. I could sense it. I could feel it. It was hard to explain, except he no longer had that feeling I got around Elrond or one of the other Elves, but ...something else. Like Arwen had before- that 'open' feeling that reminded me more of people here in Minas Tirith.

That feeling that came with an Elf who was mortal.

I sat up, sat up so fast I fell out of bed, body heavily falling on the ground with a sharp pain up one leg, and suddenly Legolas had vanished. It was just dark, Eowyn muttering in her sleep to my side, the cold floor under my knees as I knelt in the dark panting for air. My poor bad leg throbbed with renewed pain from the fall but I ignored it.

It had been a dream? A bad dream? Or had it? Legolas wasn't ...normal. Well. He wasn't like me. Dreams with him were rarely a good sign. How long had we both, while together, constantly seen each other dying? And come to think of it, that was one of the reasons I was still alive now, because apparently he'd seen me die at Helm's Deep.

I stood up, cringing in pain, and stood up. Ow. Walking stick? Check. Door? Check. Cloak? I tugged the Lothlorien cloak around my shoulders, still half asleep, but more than awake to know that it was cold out of the bed.

But if I knew anyone would go check on Legolas for me, who wouldn't even question it if I was stressed enough, it would be Boromir. Yes. It was cruel to ask. But he understood. Aragorn might have, if he knew Arwen was here and I had someone to compare to, but he didn't know she was even here.

The guard looked so startled to see me that I didn't even bother to stop. I strode past, only pausing to silently push the door shut, and he scrambled after me. It was that young man again, the one who'd escorted me to meet Boromir's uncle, and he seemed as sleepy as I was.

"Wait... wait, my Lady!"

"I have to talk with Boromir."

"You cannot-"

"The man's going to be my bloody husband." Oh, wasn't that a secret? Woops. I lowered my voice as I turned on the man. Not a chance he was stopping me. "As of tomorrow, and if you tell anyone... dead meat. Anyway. I have to talk to him. Now."

"But-"

I turned and headed outside. Rain met my head, waking me a tiny bit more, but I continued onward. The hood blocked most of it. Then … the more I woke, the more I realised there was an additional problem.

I didn't actually know where Boromir lived.

"Where does he live?"

"With his brother."

"Then show me."

For a moment I felt bad for the poor guy. He stood there, mouth opening and shutting, clearly conflicted. Obey me? Disobey me? Then with a sigh he moved past me to lead the way down the slope.

Boromir wasn't close. He was some distance down the city, closer to the middle, and the walk was close to agony after the stupid fall out of bed. It was barely anything though compared to the dream. I gazed at the sleepy 'Fellowship' house as we passed it, only the faint glow of the wood stove but no life, and followed quietly past it. Would Legolas have done that?

Would he have abandoned his fate? Gimli's fate?

The further I walked, the more the dream faded, but I still felt rattled and kept going stubbornly through the dark, feet bare, until we finally came across a large-ish building in the middle of Minas Tirith. The door was unlocked, no big surprise given that Boromir was the Captain, and as I pushed the door open a crack into the darkness the soldier hesitated.

"Should I wait?"

"He's the Captain. He can walk me back."

"Thank you. I'm supposed to be on duty up there. His room is up the stairs and the door on the left. When we have problems we're supposed to wake him." Without a backward glance he hurried away.

I slid inside and shut the door again. It was so dark that I wished I'd asked for the soldier's lantern. But then that might have been rude. Carefully I felt my way up the stairs, slowly, narrow little stone stairs that felt slightly worn under my bare feet. They twisted around, suddenly, up another flight of stairs, and then onto a landing. I found myself in a small dark landing with a window out. Two doors to either side. Boromir's door was the left. I hoped.

Opening the door confirmed it was him. I could smell him. It may have sounded strange, that I could, but I knew that smell and I knew the sound of his breathing. There was a fire too, just a small one, mostly burnt down. I slipped in quietly, dropping the cloak, and grasped one of the lumps under the blanket.

He stirred, grunting something, something probably close to, "What do you want?"

"You need to check and see if Legolas is okay."

Boromir's arms grabbed me, sudden, and I was heaved onto the bed beside him, his body crushing me as he kissed me hard again and again. Then he tugged me against him, throwing blankets over me as well, yawning as he settled down once more. He mumbled, "Woman, if you are a dream, I take you anyway. Do not turn into a giant cat halfway this time."

"A... a giant _cat_?"

No answer. Boromir's breathing was slowing, his heart slowing against my head, arms relaxing. It was relaxing. Really relaxing. His warmth, his heartbeat, it was lulling me into sleep too, when he suddenly woke up properly.

"Are you a dream? A... _wet_ dream?" He brushed my damp face, blinking in the dim firelight. Boromir crawled out of bed, stumbling, and there was the fumble of something nearby. Logs into fire. Twigs. Then the flare of an oil lantern as he used a lit twig to light it. Boromir blinked down at me, sleepy, confused, and with the trace of a smile on his face. "Or are you really sneaking into my home now?"

"I had a bad dream."

"My poor love." He didn't look like he meant it. Boromir was staring at me with that look, the look of a man who'd been denied what he wanted for four days, the same look he'd kept giving me during our 'escorted wooing' or whatever they called it. Hungry. It was really hungry. He dropped the lantern down carefully on a table before he jumped back into the bed, literally jumped, right on top of me.

It of course hurt. My leg hurt. And when I gasped in pain, Boromir froze, his good mood vanishing, a hand shoving my nightgown up. "Did you walk all this way with a swelling leg? What happened?" The affection and open lust vanished. He frowned as he touched my leg, the lines increasing as I flinched, Boromir's sleep vanishing from his face.

"I had a bad dream and I fell out of bed. Look. You need to check on Legolas."

"I am checking your leg."

I cringed as he touched it, watching him, and ...wondered. It hadn't really healed properly since the battle. There was no more bruising, not really, but it still struggled unless it was dead straight. Doing things like stairs were slow and problematic. Slopes too. It did look swollen again too. We'd been pushing it with all the training. I shook my head, sudden, shoving it out. No. Legolas. "No, you have to check on him."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I... it sounds crazy. Can't you just go?"

Boromir sat back, slowly, his fingers tracing the side of my leg slowly. God. He really loved me. I could see it, even now, even with all his concern. And I felt it too. I shut my eyes, as he slowly crawled over to kiss me, this long tender kiss that was suddenly so careful of my bad leg. "If you ask. But I do not know what worries you, how can I know what to look for?"

"Ask Lord Elrond. I'm sorry. I would have asked someone else but-"

"Was Gandalf not at the house?"

Gandalf? Gandalf! Of course. That was the most obvious answer ever. "I … didn't think of that."

"You rushed down to me, in your nightgown, in the rain, for fear for the elf?" Boromir sighed, head drooping on my shoulder. "I am not unhappy that you would trust me. But to come all the way down here on foot."

"Sorry. Should we go up to him?"

"Yes, but not you." There was this tone in his voice that was final, as his fingers traced up the inside of my legs, slowly, near the area it had started to swell. "I will ride up and I will go with Gandalf and Ara-"

"Not Aragorn. Just Gandalf. Aragorn... has a surprise down there. He can't know about it."

"A surprise?"

"Arwen. His Elf."

Boromir blinked, the sleepiness still in his face, before his tense face seemed able to smile just a little bit. He pressed tiny soft kisses all over my face, again and again, "I see. You have secrets."

"I can't tell you other people's secrets. Only mine. Except for right now."

"Nay, you can not."

But I could tell him mine. I reached up, as he went to stand. "Boromir?"

"Yes?" He was quick to reverse, sliding down, half over my body as he stroked my face, this slow tenderness.

I told him what happened in the room with Legolas. What actually happened. Not word for word, it was a bit blurry, but as much as I could remember. Not just that though. Everything. I told him about Arwen, what she'd said, even though I was sure I was repeating myself.

When I was done he sighed and slumped down to lie beside me. "Lady Galadriel told me what you tell me now. She said all would be well."

"How can she know?"

"She is not like us. She sees things we do not."

I curled into his chest, sudden, and breathed in deep as he pulled the blankets over my back. "I love him."

"I always knew you would." His voice had gone quiet, soft, and he'd tensed. But only a little. "This, she warned me of as well, and I have accepted it."

She did? I pictured it though- his behaviour since Helm's Deep. And... "I thought you thought I was dead?"

"Well... twas a very good excuse for holding you." Boromir grinned sheepishly. He reached down to cup my face, brushing hair out of it, "But it tormented me. To be told this, that you would be the woman I could love freely, and to believe I had violated you so terribly."

"Which you didn't."

"Nay, and I thank the world for it every moment I am with you now. Am I not in a hurry or would you have me relax you into sleep?" There was a hand, I realised, a hand that was tracing up the inside of my thigh. Slowly. "My love?"

"_Hurry_."

"Then hurry I will. You sleep here. Faramir is not here. I will be back before dawn breaks." He leaned down to kiss me one last time, a longer lingering kiss, before he carefully got out of the bed again. He dressed quickly, scowling. "Keep the bed warm for me. It's cold out."

"Boromir?"

"I am in a hurry, woman!"

"I love you too." It was true. I felt it, it was as true as it was for Legolas, and somehow the words didn't break my heart. I felt like crying though. Like in the dream. Because he'd frozen, and his face, and … it was the truth. Stupid big idiot. I couldn't say I'd always loved him, because I hadn't, but I did now. And I knew that I'd made the choice that was best for everyone. If I'd betrayed Legolas... it would have been by choosing happiness with him at the expense of everything and everyone else in his future. Even his own son- who, if Legolas became mortal, would loose him 'young'.

Maybe we were still married under Elven law. I didn't know. But it didn't change it.

Boromir came across to kneel on the bed, his hand shaking as it came down to turn my face up to his in the dim light, searching. He looked so emotional suddenly. "I love you."

"I just said that!"

"I will go ensure your Elf has not done anything mad. If he has, I shall tie him up, bring him to you and wait for instructions. For you." He promised, bending down, kissing my shoulder as he said softer, "And then I will return and I will make love to you for so long that we will likely miss our own wedding."

"I don't mind."

"Nor do I." He grinned, suddenly, before he stood up. "I will marry you in our bed if I must."

"Not in that dress they made me."

"You are fetching in that nightgown, my wife-to be."

Boromir turned, grabbing for his tunic, and headed out with the lantern.

I waited. Waited to hear him leave, to hear the hooves, wondering. Maybe there were stables nearby, or a barracks, or something that had to be positioned halfway down the city for easy access. It would explain why he'd live so far down from the main hall. When I heard a clatter of hooves not far from here, I sighed, relieved, and finally fell asleep. He wouldn't let me down. I knew where he lived.

With this thought I fell asleep.

I woke, slowly, aware of ...something warm. And nice. It was on the other side of a pillow, sure, but it was right there and …

I opened my eyes slowly, hardly believing it, but in Boromir's bed was Legolas. He lay there, fast asleep, curled up, a hand curled in mine. Still immortal. I wasn't sure how I knew it but I did, and I breathed out slowly, relieved.

"Lord Elrond reassures you he is fine. Drugged, in order to sleep, but he is fine." I twisted my head back to see Boromir standing there, arms crossed, a little tense. Not surprising. The elf was in his bed. He added, "As I promised I brought him back to you."

"I still have to tell him." I noticed that he was fully dressed- Legolas- and on top of the bedding. That the pillows extended all the way down the gap between our bodies. It was kind of amusing. As much as Boromir respected my feelings... he was making it pretty clear where he stood when it came to Legolas in his house. In his bed. "Thank you."

"Aye, I know. But I am not leaving. The drugs will break soon, I will go outside as you talk, and then I will return. You are not alone to carry this burden. Aragorn also waits downstairs."

I groaned softly. Supposed I should have expected this. But I turned back to Legolas and watched him sleep, quiet, his eyes fluttering under his eyelids. Traces of blonde hair was across his face, a little bit of mud, and I reached up to brush it away. The sense of Deja vu came and wet, as I flicked off the dry mud, before I brushed away his hair.

His eyes flew open. Fogged eyes, probably still drugged, that barely saw anything. I remembered it, remembered that nightmare even as it happened in reality, and saw Legolas. Knife. Panic. Drugged Elf, still half in his dreams, who didn't even see me.

Boromir's heavy body. Blood. And Boromir's voice. Or his groan? I didn't know. I knew that suddenly I was crushed, being held, Boromir's full weight on me. Arms around me. But... the knife wasn't in me. It was buried in Boromir's side, right to the hilt, and even as I stared at it, even as I felt his body suddenly go limp, I got it. Legolas had stabbed Boromir.

* * *

A/N :O Shock.


	28. Desperate times, desperate measures

It was like the world slowed. I watched, as his arm retreated, blade in the early morning light, the silvery metal so unfairly clean with only a few droplets of red to dim it.

Watched as that same hand moved forward, still in slow motion, Legolas still not seeing either myself or the heavy body on me. He wasn't there. He was somewhere, yes, but not with us.

I felt Boromir's body tense again, sudden, arms tighten as he drew me backwards. Legolas pulled his hand back, forward, and once again it found something. My leg. Only I didn't feel it. I felt it hit something hard, sure, and I felt warmth against my shoulder as we fell slowly backwards off the bed.

It was only when we hit the ground, when the first jolt of pain stabbed through my brain, that my brain shut back on. By then Aragorn was already there, dragging us backwards, and Legolas was continuing to fight something in his state, not seeing us, not seeing Aragorn, twisting and writhing. Feathers fell. I reached up to touch one, as it drifted down, as Aragorn slammed the door shut and locked it from the outside.

He knelt. Talked to me. I just stared at the feather.

"She's … in her own world once more..."

The pain in Boromir's voice cut through the shock. I blinked, fighting the strange feeling of confusion, and stared at the arm still holding on to me. Boromir. Shit. Shit. I twisted around, leg be damned, and stared at him.

He was pale, he'd tried to stop me from turning around, but now that I'd managed it he sighed and dropped the one arm still on me. The other was clenched firmly and stubbornly over his stomach and side. There was a red tint to his lips. It was bad. Fuck. Fuck.

I finally heard Aragorn's voice now.

"-tting help," just as he was already going down the stairs.

"Boromir?"

The red was all over him. Down his stomach, down his legs, and on his chin. It took a moment to connect 'red' with 'blood'. Blood with injury. The words 'Legolas stabbed Boromir' to 'oh shit, he actually stabbed him, and it's bad.' And while I stared, Boromir sat quietly, eyes in mine, waiting. Or was he too bad to talk? He was panting for air.

"How bad is it?"

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then shut it. No joke. He'd told me he wouldn't like to me.

"Aragorn..." Boromir said softly, voice without energy, leaning against the other door. "Legolas. Drugs. He will not remember even doing it."

Drugs. Great. Of course Middle Earth medicine would be like …lsd or something... instead of aesthetic. But I wasn't angry with Legolas. Even now, even in my stunned state, I could hear him tearing apart the room as he battled with something.

I slid closer to Boromir, slowly, shoving his other arm aside as it tried to cover my leg, ignoring the leg completely. It could drag behind. I slid into the space between his legs, trying to peel his hand off his stomach, and he tightened it.

"You're not seeing."

"_Boromir_..."

"Woman, you're already upset enough." Boromir growled softly. He grasped me, his other hand pulling me against him, shutting his eyes. "Elves. Prettier from a distance."

"Why did you … _in our bed_?" Not that it mattered. Not that it mattered at all. But I couldn't bring up the other question.

"Our bed." He laughed, or tried to, but it worked badly. He actually bubbled blood. Oh shit. Oh shit. "You slept so beautifully. It seemed rude to make him sleep on the floor, tied up, when he was your guest. And we have not yet soiled it."

Soiled it. What an unromantic way of saying that we hadn't had sex in it yet. I grasped him and kissed him, ignoring the metellic taste in my mouth, his arm coming to rest around my shoulders. I couldn't speak. Was this it? If we … if only I had the stupid … phone. Which Boromir had stolen.

"Where's the phone?"

"You want that thing now?" Boromir grunted. He shut his eyes. He looked so tired now. "Downstairs, in a desk, third drawer along."

I stood up, or tried to, but my leg was not accepting it and the floor was slick and slippery. I flopped down with a grunt of frustration, Boromir's eyes snapping open, and he only now seemed to notice my leg. He grasped me tighter, his free arm pressing on the wound, snapping with renewed energy, "And you are not getting it. Stay down. Be glad it was your bad leg."

"Yeah." I ignored it still. I grasped his hand, trying to peel it back from his stomach, and he held on tighter. "Let me see."

"You already know. I have some ...time. These ones do not … they are slow."

Painful too. He gritted his teeth, head slumping against my head, his breathing still fast and shallow. Time. I'd have to watch him die a slow painful death. No chance of doing anything else. But when Boromir added, softer, "I … I had hoped to have at least one child. With you. A daughter like you," my heart broke. He'd already accepted it.

"Stupid, _why aren't you fighting this_?"

No answer. He breathed in and out, eye still shut, hand firm on my leg.

We sat there. Quiet. Everytime he breathed out, my heart stopped, waiting for him … to breathe in again. Expecting it to be his last. But he was hanging on, awake, opening his eyes from time to time to look at my leg. Still he was pale, his entire body tense with pain, the sticky blood all over the floor and my side where I sat between his legs.

I wanted to cry. Instead I felt numb. Crying wasn't practical. Staying here was practical.

Aragorn returned. With Elves. I wanted to throw the Elves out but they knelt, Lord Elrond close behind, gently trying to separate the two of us. Boromir resisted. It was Aragorn that managed to unwind Boromir's arm, slow, only him that Boromir seemed to trust. He may have joked about me being in a state but as Aragorn lifted him, slowly, I could see Boromir was increasingly loosing the plot too.

"We must lie him down." Lord Elrond said softly, when I went to stand and follow, but my leg … it was not having it. So I had to sit there and watch as they carted Boromir into the other door, Elves right behind, Lord Elrond staying with me.

"Legolas didn't mean it." I cringed as fingers probed. Pain brought my mind back big time. Elrond knelt there, eyes down, and ...pushing some kind of plant into my wound. Oh. Thanks. I needed a plant in my wound.

"He did not. He will not even remember it. The drug allows for a deep sleep, of which he needed, but it may linger a while in their mind as they wake. Dreams may linger. He still dreams."

"Don't let anyone tell him then." I knew him well enough to know it'd devastate him. "I mean. I guess he'll find out. But I should tell him."

"No one will." Elrond agreed. "But you will need to come to our camp."

He put sudden pressure on my leg, so sudden that I yelped, and heard Boromir's immediate 'Woman, wh-' response. Automatic. Loud. It was cut off so fast that I had to assume Aragorn had covered his mouth or something because the sound made whatever was going on with Legolas happen more.

Elrond was wrapping my leg up, firm, some kind of wad of cloth over the bad stab wound. It was at least stiffening it.

"Legolas needs ..."

"He will calm."

I wasn't sure. I was sure that on some subconscious level he was aware I'd been wounded. Whatever he was battling right now... it would be now related to me. I stood up, slowly, Elrond's arm under my shoulders. "No... I don't think he will. Until he knows I'm not in danger."

Elrond sighed. He followed my gaze to the door. No argument this time. Maybe he knew.

"If I have something to lean on then I'll go in, let him know I'm okay, and ...you know." I glanced back to where they'd taken Boromir and hesitated. Blood. Everywhere. On my back, on my shoulders, growing cool and stiffening my clothing. I felt faint somewhat. No. Boromir had like six Elves. Six. Legolas was tearing apart everything. "Calm him down. You guys take care of Boromir."

"If he does not calm..."

"Then I'll just back out again." I responded. Grasped the door handle as Elrond slowly twisted the key.. "You have good hearing. If things seem bad..." and before he could argue, I was back in the room.

Legolas was amazing. No one could deny that. The destruction and devastation he'd caused, the feathers, the shreds of fabric and cloth, the near-fire beside the fireplace that I would have to put out as fast as I could …

I shut the door in Elrond's face and held out my arms, softly calling as I hobbled forward, "Hey, Leggy, there's no … Orc. Here. Come here. Leggy. It's me. Your Wendy."

He swung towards me, face darkened in that 'warrior' mask I'd seen so often already, his blades in both hands. Whoever thought Elves were a bunch of rainblow-clad hippies had clearly never seen an Elf in the middle of battle like this. Legolas was barely breaking a sweat, blood splattered across his face, arms, with super-hearing and speed that had him virtually charging at me before I could breathe in to shout.

But instead of stab me, he'd grasped me in his arms, this tight almost panicked grasp that held onto me as he twisted towards invisible enemies apparently crowding around us.

"Hey. Hey. It's safe." I cooed, soft, stroking his face. His eyes were darting from one side to another. Like after his nightmare, I realised, the Elf was always in them. "Look at me."

He twisted his head out of my grasp, slashing forward, nearly tipping us both over as my leg just refused to go at that pace. I had to bite my tongue to keep in a gasp of pain- if he'd heard me in pain who knew what the hell he'd do. I felt the fresh rush of warmth down my leg. Shit. Okay. Time to stop him.

I grasped his face, twisting it towards mine more forcefully, and made him look at me instead. He only fought a moment before he finally seemed to see me, even if his eyes kept darting to behind my head, and he froze.

We stood there a long time. It probably only took a minute before his eyes stopped darting around me, though that felt like an hour, and maybe only two or three minutes before he seemed to see me properly. Boromir was outside the door again. I ignored him, swaushing down my fear for him, focusing on Legolas.

"Leggy. Come on."

"Come on to … what?" He said, slowly, confusion slowly repalcing the tense warrior thing. Legolas's hand slowly raise to cup my cheek, brushing it, eyes sliding off my face and to my shoulders. "You are ..."

Panic. Complete panic. He twisted me around so fast that I almost fell, hands sliding my nightgown up and off, hands searching my back for blood. I could see it. The entire back of my nightgown was red with Boromir's blood. It made my stomach lurch. Oh fuck. How bad had Boromir been...

"Are you awake?"

"You are not injured..." He was saying, softly, twisting my hair up. "There is no wound on your back."

"It's Boromir's blood. Are you awake?" I left out the leg for now.

"I was ..." He grasped me against him, leaning against me, a shudder of breath released as he relaxed. "I was fighting."

"I know, but... Where are you now? Where are we?"

"I do not know." He muttered. Legolas grasped onto me tight. He suddenly twisted around, sending panic into me, but it was to fling a jug of water at that fire which was slowly starting to catch against debris. "Are we still in Minas Tirith?"

"No where else." I breathed out slowly. Heard Boromir dragged back.

"Is Boromir injured?"

"I told you that." I shook that aside, tugging his head back to mine, hands cupping his face. "Leggy, are you still having bad dreams?"

His face softened far too much at the nickname. I felt warmth flood me though. Had to stop using that nickname. Had to remember what I'd decided. For fucks sake. Couldn't I spend three seconds with the Elf _without_ feeling like this? No. I couldn't. I just felt too tired. Cold. I leaned forward against him. Nice and warm.

"This was a memory. Is. No." He shook his head, flinching, as if something … was still there. Like he was still seeing it. "No. It was a memory."

The door opened then shut, fast, probably seeing me standing there stark naked. Legolas glanced beyond me to the door before he knelt, slowly, hands sliding down my legs. "This is not good."

"I know." I muttered. I watched him, keeping weight on one leg, and when he tentatively kissed my leg, I felt my resistance give way. Fuck. "Leggy, I really l..."

"Do not say anything you would regret on the day of your wedding." He muttered, cutting me off, and pulled me against him. Legolas was peeling the bandage off and frowned. "Give me your weight. Was this done by my knife?"

"Yeah. You were dreaming."

"Did I injure Boromir as well?"

When I nodded he sighed, head resting against my stomach, soft hair tickling. "Then I am sorry. I have been ...trying to accept this. It was not done consciously."

"They said the drugs do that. Make you dream."

He didn't answer, he was pressing his fingers into my skin, and I gasped in pain. "Hey. Don't …"

"Your bleeding is too swift. I am trying to find the bleed so that I can squeeze it." He gritted his teeth, ignoring my pain, fingers and hand covered in my blood. Then suddenly there was this nasty … pinching sensation. Legolas breathed out, sudden, shoulders slumping. "I have found it."

"You mean you cut an artery?"

"Yes."

The door re-opened and I heard someone slide in, a sheet lifted and dropped over my shoulders, Eowyn standing beside us.

"Is everything all right?"

I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure if it was. I shut my eyes and stood there, cold suddenly, and muttered, "Leggy, can you tell if the baby's okay?"

"There is no problems. His heart beats with strength. He would not leave us so easily."

"Boromir?" I turned to Eowyn. It surprsied me, how … Legolas came first, baby second, Boromir third, but … then, Boromir had a bunch of Elves. Right? It wasn't wrong to ignore him right now. "Is he all right?"

"They intend on taking him to the Elf camp when they can move him. I do not know if it is bad or not." She responded, sliding an arm under my arms, taking some of my weight. "What do you need, Lord Elf?"

Lord _Elf_. For crying out loud.

"Something to sew with."

Sew? She stiffened but she released me, letting Legolas have some of my weight, before he vanished. Legolas seemed unwilling to let go of whatever he was holding onto. He knelt there, eyes down, other arm secure around my legs.

"Did you need to lie down?"

I nodded and he carefully stood, somehow lifting me, and lowered me onto the bed slowly. He would mutter, this horrible pain as he suddenly had to fumble inside my leg, and I was dropped roughly as Legolas fumbled in the...

I felt so sick and nearly threw up. Oh gross. He had his hand inside my leg. My stomach churned and Legolas stared up, a light sweat on his forehead, forehead creasing. "Do not move. It is hard to keep hold."

"I'm trying."

Eowyn rushed back in, something in hand, and Legolas took it. "I have already threaded it."

"Put it in the fire until it is red with heat."

Okay. That sounded omnious. My stomach churned. I heard Boromir's pained screams, screams that shouldn't come from anyone, and suddenly wished I could be sick. Better than lying here.

Eowyn was back suddenly, far too soon, and Legolas breathed in as he took the hot object. Thick. No fine needles here. It glowed and he hid it as he caught me staring at it.

"Bite something, A'maelamin. Cloth. Lady Eowyn, hold her." He couldn't even look me in the eye as he arranged it, holding it up, Eowyn sliding onto the bed behind me. She shoved something into my mouth, soft, and I got it..

Oh fuck. Didn't people get to be drunk first?

It was not a picnic. Eowyn literally had to hold me there with all her strength, Legolas pinning down my legs under one arm, as he did something horrible. The smell of burning flesh was horrible. I didn't even get to pass out.

Or did I?

I lay there panting, staring up, stunned as I found myself staring into his grey eyes once more. Legolas knelt across me, brushing my face, searching. Not demanding. Just waiting. Eowyn was gone.

"It will take some time." He said softly, when I blinked, "Before you should walk."

"I have to walk." No such thing as a wheelchair here.

"I know." Legolas rested his forehead against mine, drawing me against him carefully, his fingers against my back. "You marry Boromir, if he is well."

"If? He isn't?"

Legolas didn't answer. He got that distant thing again. I flinched, pushing him back, and tried to stand. With a soft sigh he grasped my arm, drawing the sheet around me quickly, and slid his arm under my arms. "Come."

He helped me into the hall and into the other room. It was similar to Boromir's room. I saw Boromir lying there, tense, upset, trying to stand even as they held him down easilyHe relaxed when he saw me, slumping, and I cringed as I saw the hole. Not a long gash, exactly, it was actually pretty narrow. But being narrow was bad. It meant the knife went in, rather than across, and his shallow breathing and white skin only proved that.

Boromir needed a hospital. It was pretty obvious. The Elves didn't know how to fix this. He was giving up too.

"Wendy..."

"He needs a better healer." I muttered. Moved closer, Legolas moving forward beside me unprompted, and sat down beside him with a sigh of relief. I shoved his hand back from the wound as he tried to hide it, his weak body so easily pushed aside.

"Wendy, he's dying." Aragorn's eyes met Boromirs. He sighed and stood up, speaking quick Elvish to the two, who tried to help us even as I sat there numbly. "This is not a wound that can be healed."

"You can't heal him here." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. "So. I'm taking him home."

Legolas tensed, right beside me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

"You said I had to go to my home. Arwen said I could go any time I wanted. How?" I grasped onto Boromir's hand. He barely held onto mine in return. He was barely concious. Something in me flared, this stubborn rage that he always provoked, an unwillingness to let him do this. Stupid man. Where did he think he was going? Not away.

"You would return to the moment you came here, with memory of all that has happened, and with all physical memory. You will be exactly as you are now. All that you had contact will remember."

Okay, that was nice, and a bit confusing. "But how do I do it?"

"This." Lord Elrond touched the ring on my hand. The ring Lady Galadriel had given me, the one I'd barely even thought about til now, and I stared at it like I'd never seen it before. Oh yeah. That thing. "You must put the will into this."

"Magic ring?"

"No, but a ring that connects you to the Lady Galadriel."

Wow. Okay. That was nice. Again- had to think about this another time. I had bigger problems. I grasped onto Boromir tighter, hearing his soft grunt of 'I can't feel my hand' and deciding to ignore it, adding, "...and I can take him."

Lord Elrond hesitated a moment, my heart sinking, but his eyes went over Boromir and when he said, "You can take him but he must always return. You can remain. He can not. Your child can not." I stared at the ring. Right. Wish. Wish. Like a stupid blue fairy.

Wait. I was going to be shoved back into a storm drain, mid-flood, with an injured man. Oh fuck. "Aragorn, can you get … my phone?"

Aragorn raised his eyebrow.

"She means the little black object."

"I know what it looks like." Legolas spoke up. "I will get it. Where is it?"

Boromir told him, voice so soft I could barely hear it, and Legolas vanished. He was only gone ten seconds, maybe, feet so light that I didn't hear him. When he returned he had something else too. One of Boromir's tunics? Oh yeah. Being dressed might help.

I was turning the phone on and dialing Brian, fast, ignoring the Elves.

"Babe?"

"Brian, look, um. This is going to sound crazy. But ...You know that storm drain? The one that's near the Kmart near..." I rattled off directions. At least I knew where I'd nearly drowned. "We'll be there."

"We? Look, babe, you don't want to … it's been raining ..."

"Call an ambulance on the way, okay? It's bad."

"Is that where you've bee-"

I turned it off. Tried to think. Okay. I was about to throw myself into a flood, into a flooded storm water pipe, with a heavy Boromir and a leg I couldn't even put a tiny bit of weight on...

"I am coming." Legolas said softly. He squeezed my shoulder. "You know. I will be there."

Yeah. I knew. I stared up at him, breathing faster, heart hammering. What was I doing? Throwing Boromir into my world? My hospitals? Dragging Legolas? But one look at Boromir and I felt the tense 'no way in hell are you dying' stubborn feeling.

"Just to warn you." I muttered. "We're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"When are we not?" He was barely listening though. Boromir was nearly passed out.

"This time it's bad. Worse. Floods. Just … get ready to swim." I didn't know if he'd heard me or if he'd really be able to do that. "And we'd be back..."

"Be it a month or a year, you would still return now. Time will not move."

I wasn't sure about that. I didn't know why. Maybe the stress of the situation was getting to me. But there was no time to argue. I slid closer to Boromir, trying to get an arm under his heavy body, Legolas closer as well.

God. I hoped the Valar were around now. To protect Boromir, to keep Legolas alive, to … whatever they planned with both of them, I guessed. I grasped the ring. Tried to focus. One hand in Boromir's hand, the other clutching the ring, Legolas holding on.

It was mid-way through this thought, through literally feeling the calming presence of Galadriel, that I realised that it was stupid to bring Legolas. What if _he_ died? Panic. Panic and ...then he was gone.

Boromir was here.

It was this pause. It was dark. Dark. Warm. It was hard to explain, everything felt dense, heavier than ...air? Water? ...and even I felt 'paused'. Floating. Outer space style, no gravity, without any real light or darkness. Just Boromir and myself, his free arm wide, and it took real effort to try and draw him close. My leg hurt. I stared down at it in the weird … place... and watched as droplets of blood actually beaded off and floated away.

If it wasn't so strange it might have almost been peaceful.

Then we collapsed into something. Wet. Crazy, not just wet, water swirling and dragging and Boromir's weight dragging along with it. So naturally I was dragged too, dragged down, water pouring in from all over. Twisting around, gasping for air, I tried to get a grip on the edge of the storm water drain's wall with my free hand, the other grasping desperately onto Boromir. Pain surged through my leg, sharp shocking pain that snapped me into 'action Wendy', but also so bad that I couldn't even MOVE that leg. Fingers caught a dent in the wall and hung on for dear life.

The storm drain wasn't black, like last time, but it was filled with water. These things were more than enough for a person to stand normally- I'd even heard of people living down here when it wasn't raining- but when it rained up here in Brisbane things got crazy. Messy. _Dangerous_. And with a maze of these drains, a maze that people got lost and died in during flooding, I clutched harder to the rough bricks at the edge and hung on, breathing in short sharp pants, my ruined leg dragged away from me in the current without any muscles able to pull it back in.

I heard Boromir speak, heard his voice rumble, but the water was too loud and anyway I was panting, sweating, pain shooting through my fingertips. He seemed to be moving his legs. Good. At least the guy was aware of water. But he was so damn _heavy_.

The end was, I realised as I grasped onto Boromir and searched desperately, was a good twenty metres away. The water was shoving us, even as I tried to hold onto the rough wall, shoving us backwards and towards the dark hole that we'd easily get lost in.

Legolas wasn't here. I knew that. And that moment before with him suddenly seemed so stupid. I grasped onto the tiles, or concrete, or whatever the hell was the edge of the storm water drain and felt nails break as I clung hard. Five minutes with him might have meant I didn't have a half out of it version of Boromir.

Who was sinking. Who's legs had stopped moving. It wasn't enough. We needed his legs to move- I only had one working leg right now- and when I tried to kick for both of us with my bad leg the agony of it nearly had me faint then and there.

I hoisted him up, my grip slipping, and would have probably made some horrible noise if we hadn't just sunk underwater again, pushed and shoved against the bottom of the drain as the water rushed past us, and to my horror I saw the red. Red. Even in the darkness, blood in the water was so horribly easy to see, and it forced me to use my bad leg, even though everytime I did I saw white.

With more effort, with every last thing, I grabbed the man under the arms and tried to kick and drag him back to the side, feet slipping and cutting on the bottom of the massive water filled tunnel. It was like the water pressed us there, the current rushing over us, and all I could manage was to slide slowly sideways, lungs starting to scream for air, as we were shoved into increasingly dark areas of the water drainage system.

Boromir seemed to kick back into life, or at least try to, because I felt him try and grab me in return, clasping onto me. Still weak. Still depending on me for once. Warmth was between us- his blood, I guessed- between my stomach and his. My stomach. It only reminded me that this was about more than Boromir. How much would I fight before... before …

We broke through the surface, gasping for air, fighting as we were dragged, and torn past objects and random things, into the blackness. Panic flooded me, panic so terrible and great that I almost screamed underwater, which would have been a really fucking stupid idea.

I nearly lost it before we reached air, nearly gasped water in, and as our heads burst over the edge of the water again, his eyes so wild with shock that I barely saw more than the white of his eyes in the near darkness. Something hard, cold and steady was under my hand, I realised,

"Woman, what have you done!" He swore, grasping onto me, and while I couldn't see his face, I could feel every muscle suddenly tense. With pain or fear? I knew Boromir hated the darkness.

We were both trembling, panting, but at least we were … sort of secure against whatever it was I was holding. The water was bizarrely warm given the circumstances... but then, it was the tropics.

I clenched harder to the pole, breathing in and out hard, heart hammering. What had I done? I'd wanted to get him a stupid ambulance, not drown him in my world, and what was the water doing to his stomach?

"We're ...at home. My home. You need a hospital." If he didn't before, he would now, I'd probably screwed up the stab wounds worse. He barely seemed to be breathing, however much he was talking, and his breathing was shallow and weird. I smelt blood. That meant it had to be in his mouth or something, his mouth so close to mine, and anxiety flooded me. Could I even... swim. Up this?

I felt his hand against mine, holding onto whatever it was I clutched onto, his other hand against his stomach, one of his legs curled around mine as if he was trying to keep a hold on me anyway he could. I clung to his tunic hard, praying the stupid thing wouldn't tear or something, forehead against the cold metal.

Cold metal?

A ladder.

"Up." I shoved him, heard him swear at me, his body slumping. Was he passing out again? I shoved at Boromir harder. His skin was so damn cold and clammy. Lungs slowing under his chest, which was still pressed against mine, his heart slowing. Sleep or … that other thing. I went with sleep. It was the more positive of the two. "Don't go to sleep."

"I would not sleep now!"

Something splashed hard nearby, scaring the crap out of both of us in the darkness, Boromir's head swinging up so hard that our heads cracked. I nearly got knocked off the ladder then and there, red hot pain shooting through my forehead, and he slipped. One second he was there, the next he wasn't. And light. There was light suddenly. I couldn't tell if it'd come with the splash or after- I felt too dazed to figure out the order of things right now- but I acknowledged the blinding light. More splashes. I clung there, blinking,

"Boromir!"

The shout echoed. Splashing. I could hear a lot of it. I wasn't sure what to do, to let go and go after him, or … was that him swimming? I grasped onto the ladder for only a moment, only a second, before I let go.

Something hard slammed into me, knocking the air out of my lungs, and I was shoved back against the ladder hard. Blonde hair. Muscles. Boromir slumped, eyes half shut once more, and a man hung onto him, his face red with effort, swearing as Boromir nearly slipped out of his grasp.

"Fuck, babe, you going to grab him or am I doing all the work here?"

I grabbed onto Boromir, staring at Brian, and felt … like I was going mad again. Brian. Boromir. Fucking hell. Brian grabbed onto Boromir hard, shoving him up the ladder, swearing again as Boromir apparently wasn't going to climb.

"The ambos are coming." He grasped onto my waist, holding me against the ladder as well, somehow using his body to pin both of us there. "Left my car up there with hazard lights and a rope dangling down the manhole. To me."

"How the hell did you know we were here?"

"Some random up there ... I ...don't … know where he is. Probably waiting for the ambo." Brian swore again, the words so strange after Middle Earth, as Boromir nearly slipped out of his grip. "Is he bleeding or pissing?"

"Bleeding badly... you need to put pressure on his stomach." I tried to talk normally, tried to hide my own agony, and was relieved when Brian did what I said. I clung onto the metal rings, eyes shut, holding on for dear life as the current dragged and pulled at my increasingly heavy body. I felt pain in my stomach.

Oh fuck, no. Not that. Anything but that. That was one thing I wouldn't sacrifice for Boromir.

The second I released my hand to feel my stomach I was caught and dragged off the ladder into the darkness, under the water, and away. Bad leg hit things, head hit things, water crushing me, and all I could do now was hang onto my stomach and breathe, every time my head found air, but … it was black so fast. It was disorientating so fast. Head struck something? I was sure I passed out. Leg hit something, I was sure I did, but there was no way to be sure about that- there was no way to tell up from down or down from up.

I did know that if I stayed, I died, so even though I didn't know ...where I was going, what I was doing... and I wasn't sure what to do any more.

Then suddenly, as I was dragged around a bend, light blinded me. And I fell.

I slept.

After some time I became aware of … arms?

Arms. More arms. So many bloody _arms_. Lips, too, lips pressing against mine, and hands pressing against my chest, hands that hurt. A hand.

With a sudden rush of water, I came back, literally as every last drop of water in my lungs came flooding out of me in one big gush into the already soggy ground.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let it out."

The voice was strange. Strange hand rubbing my back. I groaned, breathing in and out, so disorientated all of a sudden. Sweetheart? Who would call me sweetheart? A woman. She had bent me over onto my side, and I noticed a man beside me, apparently doing something with my leg. I gasped in pain as he tentatively slid leggings back- he must have cut it- and a nasty looking spurt of blood made my head spin again. Sleep sunk up around me.

Things got a bit weird. I was sure I saw Legolas. I know I saw Brian, at least I assumed I did, and I was pretty sure I saw Boromir. But once again I wasn't sure. Ambulance. Some whistle in my mouth, which seemed to take a lot of pain away, and I blinked stupidly around the ambulance for a a few minutes as the daze of drugs swam over me. Confusion. Had I dreamed everything or was I …. just in a flood?

A face hovered over mine in the ambulance, face lined with worry, a hand clasping my face as the woman beside him was fussing somewhere else further down my body. It had to be a dream. I stared up at Legolas, who was searching my face, stared up at him and waited for him to vanish. Had to be the drugs. He was wearing jeans and a tshirt. Legolas. Wearing jeans and a tshirt. Oh sure, he still had the hair, he still had the ears, but...

"Can you see him?" I tried to ask, the thing in my mouth falling out, and saw Legolas and the woman exchange glances.

"Yes, of course I can. Hold it there. Keep that in your mouth, sweetheart, it'll help with the pain."

"She knows you're pregnant with our child." Legolas murmured, pressing his cheek against mine, and I heard him inhale slowly. Felt his body tremble. I breathed in slowly too, tugging down an oxygen mask to do so, trying to smell past the stench of blood, water, mud, medicine, oxygen, and … it was him.

I reached up to grasp his head, his hair, and felt his breathing hitch as I touched him, an arm coming to rest across my body. He grasped the mask and pushed it back down on my face. Had he come earlier? Had Galadriel sent him here ahead of us? I supposed that would make a lot of sense.

"Leave it." Legolas said softly.

"Boromir?"

"_Ben_." He glanced to the woman, who blinked and nodded, eyes going from Legolas to me. Legolas seemed so comfortable. It was so strange to see him like this, in the middle of _my world_, in a fricken _ambulance_, sitting there in a dark green t-shirt and dark jeans. Maybe it was my drugs talking but I would have always assumed he'd freak out. Panic. Cars flying everywhere, pollution, that kind of thing. But he was so calm. He grasped my hand tight, just a tiny motion of panic everytime a car passed by us, but that was all. Legolas smiled a tense smile. "Ben, who we call Boromir, is ahead of us. A helicopter was waiting."

"A helicopter?"

"The flood waters had blocked that area off. Don't panic, Kim." The woman sat up quickly and shoved me down onto the stretcher. She gritted her teeth. I didn't feel anything but when I glanced down I saw another flood of red across her hands. "Chris, we're going to need to get there faster, I can't slow the bleed."

"Gotya, Chris."

"Bleed?"

"You have drugs in your body. You no longer feel it. But stay still." Legolas had his eyes fixed on me, as if he was determined to not look at my leg, and his smile grew tense. "Do not move."

"Hey, wait a sec, it's just-"

"Whatever it was before the drains, my love, is now torn wider. The baby is what I worry about and so please, stay calm."

It took a few more dazed seconds, a few more long dazed seconds, before I remembered the other pain. I didn't sit up this time but panic finally broke through the strange feeling of calm around me. "The baby-"

"We have a doctor already waiting at hospital. Already giving you a drug to stop the contractions."

"_Contractions_!" NOW panic came. I nearly sat up, but Legolas was ahead of me, his hands on my shoulders. No wonder why he was hiding his tension so well.

"It's all right." 'Chris' responded, twisting, and I saw a needle pushed into my leg. Didn't feel it, exactly, but I saw it. "Just have a little sleep. Lee will keep an eye on you."

I didn't get a chance to ask who Lee was. I slept again, in and out of some weird dream, the siren of the ambulance mingling with the soft song Legolas was singing to me. Dreams about drains, water, drowning, but … the song was what followed me most.

It was sunny when I woke properly. Sunny, clean, and cold. I lay in the hospital bed, staring out the window, as if a switch had clicked me from 'sleep' to 'awake'. My leg was stiff and there was something in my arm.

Beside me was a window. The hospital had a rooftop next to me, or a balcony, or something, because I saw a pot plant out there. There was a rail. An Elf, kneeling beside the rail, speaking to the pot plant.

Legolas had this soft smile on his face as he touched the leaves, his fingertips tracing the big broad leaf, eyes distant while he knelt beside it. He looked strange still. I couldn't explain why, or how, but he did. Was this the effect my world had on him? It made him look a bit tired. A bit strained. He even had lines around his eyes.

As if he knew I was awake, he stood slowly, brushing the dirt off his knees. Then he turned to me and the soft smile increased.

"Wendy."

"Leg..." I squeezed my eye shut as my throat protested this idea, it was so dry and tickly, and heard him come inside. Water was tipped down my throat, slow, cool water that eased the throat.

"Just a little." He said softly as he sat down beside me. "You had surgery. Our son has not suffered and rests comfortably within you. They looked within you and I saw..." He inhaled slowly, grasping my hand, leaning against it. "I would never have thought I would see my own child growing within you."

"Leggy. When did you..." He was so strange. So openly affectionate. Had he forgotten Boromir? What I'd done? What I'd decided? I didn't know how to ask.

"I was here before you were. I had time to plan." He kissed my palm, again and again, brushing it. "To find this Brian of yours."

"Not mine."

"He is a friend, if not a lover, and I found him just moments after you contacted him. He remained with Boromir and I went on to follow you. The drain empties into a river not far from there. There, we called for the healers, and I tended to your leg until they came."

Oh. That made sense. I supposed it did, anyway, and I didn't have the energy to ask how or why he'd decided to go for Brian. I watched as Legolas sat there, ignoring the lines in my arms, ignoring my leg, watched as he sat in my world without protesting.

"Boromir is in a place which is called Intensive Care and has not been allowed into a place where I may visit. I have told them that he will panic and he has."

"Panic?" The word snapped me into reality. I wanted to sit up, I loved the idea, but nothing in my body seemed able to do anything except twitch. "I should go to him."

"You do not need to worry. They have put him to sleep for now. He has injuries that … may take longer to repair." Some shadow crossed Legolas face at the words. Guilt? "As do you. I barely remember it but I am sorry. Rest. Brian waits with Boromir and I wait with you. He has shown me how to contact him and we talk every hour."

I might have told him off for ordering me like that another time. This time? I breathed out, slowly, and found that my body agreed with him. Legolas went quiet, his hands stroking mine, and I shut my eyes.

It might have been a minute, an hour, I wasn't sure, but when I woke Legolas had barely moved. Without even having to ask, when he saw me wake, he offered me another mouthful of water. It gave me the chance to ask, "You're real?"

"I am."

"So... both worlds are real."

"Did you still doubt this?"

"Who wouldn't?"

He smiled and ran his finger across my stomach, slowly, eyes in mine. So much love. Unlike before, when I'd made it clear I was marrying Boromir, Legolas wasn't hiding anything. And it killed me. His question 'Wouldn't you wait for me?'. That killed me too.

I didn't know what the hell to do. No. I did. That was the problem. It would upset everyone.

Except Legolas. Because he was right. I would have waited. Ten years. Twenty. As long as he accepted I'd grow old.

"You know I was going to marry Boromir when I got back."

"I know that's what he intends. What do you intend?"

I stared at Legolas a long time. This morning there'd been pain. Hurt. Heartbreak. He had barely been able to look me in the eye. Now, however, it was so different. Longing, open love, and … something else. I couldn't explain it. What did I intend?

"Do you accept I'm going to age?"

"It is difficult to believe." He responded. "But … if you want to age, then I accept it."

I sighed and shut my eyes. "I just want everyone to be happy."

"Boromir was so ha-"

"Were you?"

I didn't know. That's what bothered me. I didn't know if I was happy. I was happy when he was, I was happy that he had what he wanted, and even able to find a way to enjoy it. But thirty seconds later I'd always ...feel uncertain. I wanted Boromir happy above all else. I wanted Legolas happy in the same way.

"I don't know."

"You do not have to know. There is no pressure now. Simply rest, heal, and trust that all will be well."

Legolas leaned over to kiss me, slowly, this long lingering kiss, and his breath seemed to speed up at the sheer touch, the kiss going from 'gentle' to ''hungry' within seconds. He breathed out slowly, a long exhale of air, and muttered something in Elvish. He fell back into the chair heavily and gazed away out the window.

* * *

A/N

We're actually nearing the end :O


	29. Healing slowly

Course once I had really woken up, the warm fuzzy feelings from before, and the thoughts I'd had before... did not make it easy to relax. I lay there in the hospital, eyes on the phone, and stared at it. Waited. Waited. Turned on flight mode. Turned it off. Legolas may have softened me a moment, when I was on drugs, but …

But what?

This entire thing unsettled me and I wanted to pace up and down. I made Brian text me a photo of Boromir just to be sure that Boromir was really here and that he really was in hospital. The photo I got in return did NOT help. Not only he things in his arms, he had restraints on, some blood being drained into him, and some machine was breathing for him. Something to do with one collapsed lung and the other partially collapsed, water ingestion, an infection, two stab wounds, and worms. Seriously. He had _worms_. Worms that were significant enough to mention. Or maybe Brian had been so amused by it that he'd decided to add it anyway.

As for me, it had turned out that on top of ingesting water into my lungs, which apparently wasn't as simple as it seemed, my leg had been in worse shape than anyone had expected. Yes, Legolas had more or less stabbed it in the place I'd originally been injured, but it was more than that. Apparently something to do with a 'grade three rupture' which had half healed, I'd gotten lectured big time because it'd apparently needed surgery, and Legolas had just stabbed the area nearby. They saw it while they were going in to clean the wound out. One surgery to repair the stab wound had turned into two more, on the same day, to try and repair the muscle. I wasn't going to be walking anywhere for a few months unless it was in rehab. Doctor's orders. The baby? He just sat there, stubborn in the womb, and the contractions I'd had ceased before we'd even reached the hospital. It was probably his way of telling me to calm the fuck down. Or something. I'd have to ground him for that language.

I'd also hit my head hard several times. It would have explained why I barely remembered the water drain, or falling out of it, or hitting the grate that fed into the river.

Legolas acted weird too. He and Brian swapped hospitals, somehow, and I expected this to mean the Elf to be a fish out of water here. Apparently not. He seemed to adapt so well that I was stunned- one moment he was with me and then he was in a taxi and going to sit with Boromir. At first I generally slept through Brian's visits. It was more to do with 'I can't face you too' than anything. I'd always known I wanted to break up with him. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that I didn't want to hurt him. Crazy, yeah, but the guy had flown his entire bloody family out from the UK when he'd found out I needed someone to protect me.

The first time I really 'woke' he seemed as nervous as I did. Brian sat there, fidgeting, shifting in the chair like he couldn't quite get comfortable. When he met my eyes I saw guilt.

"You awake, babe?"

"Yeah." Yeah. I'd been awake for hours. But I needed to pee and … it was a really good time to talk. "Yeah. I ...think we should talk."

"I think so too."

I sighed. He sighed.

"I … I think..." Oh god. I hesitated. He had something too, he was bursting, and I couldn't get the words out. "You go."

"Sorry, babe. I cheated on you."

"_What_!"

"I mean... It wasn't … you were gone. A long time. And ...well, you know Jess. She lives with us. Lived. I mean, you don't really live there now... anyway." He fumbled, stumbling over words, guilt all over his face. "It's been going on a while. Since before... you went missing."

All I felt was _relief_. Sheer complete relief. I gawked at him as he started to ramble about her, about how he loved her, about how she completed him, and it wasn't me it was him, he'd always care about me, all the usual stuff. It was sad too, it really was, but … it was more than that. I'd never thought about this kind of thing as being a good thing. You didn't hear about 'good breakups'. You heard about the bad ones. The messy ones. I didn't even care that he'd cheated on me.

"Hang on. I need to ..." I stared at him. Wait. Hadn't Lord Elrond said 'same moment as you left'? "How long was I gone?"

"About three months. I've been paying for a storage place for all your stuff, don't worry, it's all safe." Brian responded. He blinked at me like I was mad. "Did you hear anything I just said? I'm still your friend, babe, but we can't..."

"Yeah. I was going to say the same thing." Three months? Forget the breakup. Elrond had been wrong. Wrong! The Elf had been wrong! I hoisted myself up, grabbed for the crutches, and swore softly. That was right. No crutches. Torn ligaments or something nasty in my leg. Whatever had happened at the battle had torn something in the leg, Legolas had just competed the damage beautifully, and I wasn't allowed to even WALK without rehab. "Get me the wheelchair. Or a nurse. I need to pee and then I need to go see Boromir."

"Are you allowed out? Wait, what do you mean, you were going to..."

"They've cut me open, sewn me up, what else can they do?" I carefully hoisted my leg out. They'd strapped it and strung it and it couldn't even bend right now. Okay. The drugs probably made it easier for me to move it. Regular morphine and I was ready to do star jumps. "I cheated on you too. With ...um. Lee." Lee. Legolas' name for this place. "And Ben. Anyway. I'm pregnant. I'm still your friend too."

"You mean Legolas and Boromir, don't you?"

God. Saying it out loud shocked me. I froze and tried to think. Yeah. It didn't even feel right now. I wasn't sure what I'd been thinking. I pressed the nurse call button. "Yeah. They call themselves that sometimes."

"They're real, aren't they?" His voice made me freeze. I turned to look at him. Brian had stood up and was coming around the bed, slowly, and there wasn't a trace of hurt on his face either. He looked as relieved as I was. "I don't mean cosplayers. I mean. Legolas. He isn't _normal_."

"I know." I watched him closely. "He's not."

"Boromir too."

I nodded. Brian stared at me like I was crazy. He was staring at something around my neck. I thought I must have been naked until I'd looked down. There, still hanging there as it always had, was Legolas' leaf.

"You were gone three months. You just appear, like that Legolas, wounded, stabbed, and there he was. Standing on the top of the manhole waiting for me, like he expected me, listening. He followed you two. I couldn't even hear the water underneath but he could …" Brian twisted as a nurse came in. He went quiet as she helped me to the bathroom, though I saw the questions flooding his face, saw him wait impatiently for her to bring me back. Only when she was gone he continued. "Kim, he could hear you through six metres of dirt and concrete. Then he just jogged to the end of the drain like he knew where you'd end up. A full two kilometres or some shit down the drain."

"He did?"

"Made the ambos go with him and everything." Brian shook his head. "Stole their ambulance with them in the back."

"What! He can't drive a car."

"He figured it out." Brian stared at me still. He was kind of white. In shock, I supposed, like he couldn't believe what he was remembering. "So it's true? You've been there?"

"Yeah." I was surprised he believed me. But then, I realised, Brian had always believed me. About everything. "Yeah."

"So when I called you and you were half naked. That was ..."

"In Edoras?"

"I knew it! Shit, I want to go get their autographs now!" Brian laughed, this gleeful childish laugh, clapping his hands together. "Holy shit. That's amazing. What were you doing there? Screwing Elves?"

"Hey!" I protested. This time though, he wasn't trying to insult me, I could see it. Brian was relieved and relaxed. He was actually joking with me like he used to years ago. It was amazing. Had we gotten so stressed out? Pretended for so damn long? " Elves don't screw around."

"Soul mate?"

"Yeah." Yeah. Guilt. Oh man. I hid it. "Something like that. Anyway. Can you ask them for me what I have to sign to get out of here?"

"Think I can manage that, babe. But they'll want somewhere. An address. You can stay with us."

"In that share house? With Legolas and Boromir?"

"Na." Brian smiled, cheeks flushing, traces of guilt still there. "Told you. I'm with Jess. We moved into this place together, just the two of us, and … I didn't want to break up with you on the phone. There should be room for you three if you share the bungalow, you know, till you rent a place of your own. Legolas has already been sleeping there. All of Jess's plants are now blooming like crazy. Oh. I forgot." He stood up and went for something, some 'man bag' as I'd used to call it, pulling out a newspaper. Brian held it up and I stared at my own smiling face. "Newspapers are all over the story now."

'Olympic darling's miracle survival'. Me, with a gold metal, and then a smaller photo of me being taken into an ambulance. They were fast.

"What?" I blinked at my own photo. Honestly, they'd ignored me most of the time, the swimmers more glamorous than the archers. "When did they-"

"Literally were all over it the day after. You should have seen the papers when everyone thought you were dead. I saved them." Brian sat down beside me on the bed, dropping the newspaper, and he smiled wider still with every second. "Now there's all kinds of rumours. People think you hit your head and were living with the homeless community in the storm water drains."

"There's no such thing, is there?" I blinked at him.

"Fucking oath there is. All the newspapers have been doing reports on them ever since you returned. Charities and stuff are raising money for them. I may have ...suggested it to them." He added, sheepishly, "In case you're wondering who had the idea. Jess's idea. She used to live there. It's getting them attention."

"When were you such a big charity promoter?"

"Lots of teenagers go down there to escape domestic abuse at home." He responded softer. "I was going to tell you, when Jess told me, except you vanished. We looked for you down there. Look. When we were together... I was pretty nasty. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Brian shook his head fast. "No, it's not, I ...I shouldn't have behaved like that. It's weird. I don't get like that with anyone else. But around you I got angry so much. You were always so quiet and meek and … It made me so angry." He scratched his head again. "I've been going to Uni over the summer. Learning to be a community worker. And I … I guess I realised it was your way of coping. So. Um. Sorry."

We went quiet. He sat there, staring ahead, and like before I saw very little of Legolas. I did see traces of the Brian I used to know, my old friend, before … things got ugly. I breathed out slowly.

"Anyway. The papers have been hassling the hospital for interviews so if you want to stay with us, we'll make sure they keep away, but if they do grab you-"

"I don't remember because I hit my head."

"May as well say that."

The phone alarm went off in Brian's pocket, he grabbed it quickly, and read it. "Boromir's surgery."

"Wait, how many has he had?"

"They're doing little ones because his body is weird with the anaesthesia. Don't panic. I think today is the last one. They found all kinds of weird shit in him." He laughed. "Shit. Broken bones that didn't set properly. Ribs that didn't heal straight. They repaired his arm- it had some kind of fracture that healed crooked- and they found some arrow tip in him. I can't believe you brought Boromir of Gondor to fucking Brisbane, Australia, of all places. They can't get enough of him. They asked him if he wanted them to do it over time and he said 'heal everything so I can get out of this damn bed. Anyway, today is the last one. It'll get him off the breathing machine."

"Oh. Good." I wasn't sure what to say. I hadn't even thought about Boromir's history of injuries or the Middle Earth healing ...that it wouldn't even be close to what doctors around here liked. "How long have I been in and out of it?"

"About a week." Brian stood up. "I'll talk to them about the discharge."

It turned out that they weren't that upset with the idea. Private health insurance, rather than the public, were more eager to please me apparently. That was one thing I remembered- that my mother had paid for my health insurance right up until I was thirty. Private. Dad had thought it was a waste of money, as I earnt some money as an archer, but she'd been stubborn about it. Maybe she'd been afraid of what Dad might have done to me. I didn't know.

It was that afternoon when I'd successfully eaten lunch and not vomited, that they let me out, and Legolas had returned fast for that. With him walking ahead, Brian pushing the wheelchair, and Jess distracting the media, we slipped into Brian's car and were gone before they could blink.

Elrond had been wrong. The words still echoed in my head, as I resisted the urge to stare at Legolas, because Brian was right. It had been three months since the flood that'd nearly drowned me. Was it because I'd talked to Brian and so … the world kept happening? I didn't know. Maybe it just worked this way. What about Legolas? Did I have to kill him too? I wasn't sure about that.

We stopped long enough at Brian's house so that I could shower, which was a painful experience now that the morphine was wearing off, and it involved me sitting on a chair in the shower, bad leg wrapped up in plastic, trying to wash in a seated position. Still it was a relief to feel hot water pounding on my shoulders and back, a relief to smell soap, shampoo and conditioner, and I spent a long time enjoying it. Like usual- Legolas stayed close. Literally on the other side of the bathroom door. I only kept him out of the bathroom while I dressed because of the lock, I was sure of that, sure that he preferred to stay close. It was as if he hadn't seen me for years- he was surprisingly 'clingy'. It didn't matter though. We had to wait till the surgery was finished anyway.

Twenty minutes later and we were back in the car.

This time I did notice Legolas struggle, just a little, notice that on the highway he refuse to look out the window. He kept his eyes down, his hair shielded, turned towards me. When I grasped his hand he clutched to it with surprising strength. It wasn't that he wasn't affected by cars. It was that he was hiding it. His fingers dug into mine every time a car passed us. As soon as Brian had parked he was out of that car and I followed him close behind.

Boromir was in a bad way still. They must have sedated the crap out of him because all he could do was grunt when he saw me, he didn't even try to lift his arms, Legolas moving to stand on his other side. But at least he was all right.

"He will live." Legolas said softly. He smiled, meeting my eyes over Boromir, and added, "There is no doubt."

"Good. Or I'd kick your ass." I stared at Boromir though and felt … I didn't know. Concern, yes, I felt that. But I ...I'd started to question it. It was like that night, that night when I'd given into him, it wasn't enough somehow. I hadn't even been able to really accept in my mind that I was going to marry him. It wasn't real. The further we got from his home, his family, his friends, from the Elves that judged me, the less real it seemed. The less like something I could face. Yeah, I could see myself living a life with him, but ...I didn't know.

It didn't seem fair to Legolas to keep changing my mind. Or Boromir. I had to accept it. I had to stop pretending there was a choice anymore. I had to … locate lots of oranges. A couple of coconuts.

"He will not wake until tomorrow." Legolas moved around the bed to come stand beside me. "His body is healing that which they have done."

"Yeah, and tomorrow he'll be silly with pain killers." I sighed and rested my head against Boromir's hand. It had been the right thing to bring him here, even if they had repaired a bunch of things he probably had forgotten about, but at least … he had color in his face again. He wasn't dying. "It was the right thing, wasn't it?"

"Of course. He will live a long life now with his children and grandchildren."

"Mine?"

Legolas stared at me, confusion, and then ...some shadow crossed his face. I couldn't explain it. He looked old again, ancient, and his hand tensed on my shoulder. "You have not yet decided, have you?"

"No."

Legolas sighed. He gazed down at Boromir and the open warmth vanished slowly. He was hiding something from me again, for a moment, before he shook his head, "I long learnt to stop hiding things. No. They are not your children."

Not my children. I stared at Boromir. What did that even mean? "Then who-"

"I cannot tell you."

Had he cheated on me? Or something? I stood up quickly. "You saw his future?"

"I know that much of it. You did the right thing to bring him here." Legolas didn't offer anything else though, no more information, no hints, nothing. Just that Boromir would have children and I wasn't going to carry any of them.

It was strange how fast my mind and heart reverted back to 'pre Minas Tirith'. That night I lay there, staring out the window in a camp bed that Brian had found for me, watching as Legolas on the other side of the room reading. I hadn't even realised how caged in I'd felt, how trapped, how wound up and tied up I had been by everyone else. How I couldn't walk out the door without feeling like someone might be offended by my pants, or my hair, or ...and how I'd started to try and blend in. Head down. Yes, that was nice, or no, I didn't want that if they didn't like it.

I'd even let someone SHAVE me.

What the hell had I done that for?

Now, even a wheelchair was frustrating, and Legolas had to lower me into bed himself. Without the pain killers my leg remained painful, throbbing, and I had to be so careful of it the first night- I kept waking myself up by jolting it, or twisting, or moving wrong.

Or I'd have a bad dream that Legolas didn't exist. And I'd have to check that he was still reading in the dark nearby. Somehow this was the worst possibility ever- that I'd be alone here with Boromir.

This didn't improve when we went back to the hospital and found Boromir. Awake. Furious, I could see it in his face, but hiding it. He caught sight of me and suddenly all the pent up frustration FLOWED.

"Woman, what is going on? What is this?"

"Calm down."

"I am tied to a bed with objects caught in my arms!" He swore, trying to lift his arms, and I saw the nurses beyond the glass eye each other. Uh oh.

"Boromir, calm down. They're healers." I hissed, bending over him, voice soft. "Those lines put drugs in your arms. To aid healing."

"It is safe." Legolas added. "There is nothing to fear."

"Fear? Tis nothing related to fear, Elf, I assure you of that!" His rant, although it had strength, took ten minutes. Ten minutes for him to say all of that, his eyes closing, and yet no one inturrupted him. When Boromir went silent for longer than a minute, his eyes opening and closing slowly, I breathed out.

He was afraid. He just didn't want to admit it. I wriggled the wheelchair closer, lifting his hand carefully, and felt his hand curl around my hands. "It's my world. They have healing techniques and … it's painful but you'll feel better after."

I wasn't sure if he heard me or not. He seemed to slip in and out of sleep. I met Legolas' eyes.

"We have not left him alone a moment where possible." He said softly. "Sometimes he wakes. Often he forgets that he has before. Many a time he has spoken to me as if I were you."

Uh oh. "What has he said?"

"Mostly he is caught in dreams and memories." Legolas gazed away. He sighed softly. "This was never a surprise, Wenduin, I knew it was happening even as it did."

"You-" I trailed off, staring at him, and he refused to look at me or Boromir. How did we even get to this point? It wasn't just guilt. He looked so old again, so tired, and I flinched when he made eye contact with me.

"It's all right." He smiled , a tired smile, "It was something I had been warned to expect."

That didn't make it any easier.

Legolas slumped down in a chair beside me, reaching for his pocket, and drew out a chocolate bar. Without hesitation he'd peeled it and started to eat.

"You shouldn't eat that." I muttered.

"Because it is not healthy?"

"Because when we return to Middle Earth you'll spend the rest of your life looking for more chocolate." I tried to smile as I slumped back in the wheel chair. To my relief Legolas did smile then, even if it was kind of sad, and when he held out half the chocolate bar I couldn't resist. "Got an orange somewhere?"

"No." He smiled and bit into the chocolate.

Brian hadn't spoken during this exchange. Only now did he mutter something, something about needing to buy groceries, and left us alone.

It was strange to sit there all day, Boromir in a hospital bed alternating between wakefulness and a drugged sleep, Legolas so calm as he sung softly in Elvish, and myself in a wheelchair. Occasionally Boromir would demand to be 'let free'. Sometimes he barely seemed to see me at all. Most of the time though, when awake, he seemed to be semi-concious and would lie there staring at me or would chatter away about the most random things. Food he liked. His first pony. The man had actually once ridden a pony. It was like he thought he was dead and I couldn't blame him- compared to Minas Tirith _this place_ was like an alien planet.

That night it was hot. Not unusual in Brisbane, a semi-tropical climate, and Brian lent us a rotating fan for the shed in the hot night. Like other nights, Legolas had to help me get into the shower, help me get to the toilet, because the wheelchair and the shed just weren't designed to go together. At least the pain killers helped deal with the pain. I knew I couldn't keep popping them like pills... but for now, at least, they helped.

Legolas slept that night, the fan twisting to blow air on both of us, blankets discarded in a pile on the couch at the other side of the shed. While Legolas slept, it was my turn to feel restless. Instead of sleeping I searched for real estate. Something to rent. It was nice, sort of, to sleep in a shed... but I kind of wanted to get Boromir somewhere cleaner. Safer. There were power tools out in the other room in this shed. What if he picked one up? What if he found a nail gun? The world wouldn't be safe if Boromir found out what those babies did. He'd probably stuff it into his leggings in an attempt to take it back to Middle Earth and use it against some Orc. I had this sudden image of him hunting zombies...

Yeah, he really had to get out of here before he discovered what a _gun_ was.

I wanted to cook. I couldn't- it wasn't my house- but the urge to cook and eat rose. I couldn't even really stand up without help, to be honest, and I glared at the wheelchair as if it was the cause of all my stress. It wasn't. And I wasn't upset that they'd fixed my leg, exactly, just … that I felt restless and frustrated with this whole thing.

"Wendy..." Legolas spoke up, soft in the dark, and I heard him shift up. Saw his shape as he leaned up on his elbow on the little camper bed. "Do you need the medicine for pain?"

"It's okay. I took it an hour ago. I just can't sleep." I muttered.

"Do you need help to sleep?"

Help? I groaned softly. "If you mean knock me out, sure."

"I was going to sing." He stood up, slowly, and came to sit beside me. It was still summer and I watched him move to me in the dark, half-naked, the light of a street light casting a weird glow across Legolas as he crossed the room to me. I gawked at him, it was hard not to, but I found myself seeing other things. New scars. Old scars, really, but new to me. Legolas had changed. His entire body had changed somehow. When he came to kneel beside me I reached up to touch a particularly nasty looking slash across his stomach. It had to be an ancient scar, really, but to me it may as well have been fresh and new.

"How did you get this?"

"It was from a angry spider. I'd taken her prey." He responded softly, reaching up to brush my bare shoulders, tracing them. Legolas had that look on his face again. That look … it was hard to explain, as if he was staring at me, as if he was memorising every detail or something. He kept doing that. Kept stealing glances. Long stares. "You have not changed much from the moment we met."

"Except I got thin."

"No, you did not."

Ow. I twisted over, or tried to, but my already drugged leg refused to move with me. Legolas shifted to my side and helped me, lifting my leg, and I shifted onto one side. His hands started to run up and down my back in the darkness, along the muscles, and he murmured, "You are stronger. But you have not changed. You make me feel young again."

"You're only, what, five hundred?"

He didn't answer, breathing out slowly, and I heard him start to sign again in that soft voice he always had when he sung. Somehow this tune seemed more familiar but the massage was relaxing me. That, with the feel of cool air blow across me from the rotating fan, was so ...calming. But it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to let him think this was okay. The worst part of my guilt had to come up.

"I slept with Boromir."

"I told you. I knew. I did not stay far from you and ... I know you have trouble saying no to him." Yeah, well, okay. That may have been true. I sighed again, trying to relax, as he lay down on the ground beside me. Legolas continued to sing softly as his long fingers danced across my spine. "There is no blame. Sleep and feel peace."

It wasn't easy to feel peace. But I slept at least. The whole 'I have to marry Boromir' thing seemed less and less in my mind, now there was no pressure, and I was starting to realise. The second Legolas left, the second Elrond left, and the pressure was off... I'd resent Boromir.

There would probably no real way around it. Even though it wasn't his fault, he'd be the one left to deal with it, and it might grow worse. I'd see Legolas frequently. I'd miss him. But … it didn't answer the big problem of how he'd do his thing and still not die with me around.

These thoughts did not go away with sleep.

They didn't go away after a week. A week, of going to the hospital to sit with Boromir, who was getting more mentally alert and back to himself by the day, and a week of coming home and eating dinner in the back shed with Legolas. We'd sit there and watch bats, eat, even listen to music. It stunned me that he was so comfortable with everything, with the laptop, with music coming out of a little plastic box, with the microwave, and he didn't even bother to pretend as if these things bothered him. They didn't. I'd find him outside talking to the lemon tree before he picked a couple of lemons. Or to the neighbor- discussing _weather_.

It wasn't just that Legolas was comfortable here, although that in itself was strange, I would have thought it'd be Boromir who had an easier time. He still seemed slightly strange to me. Older, like before, but also tired sometimes. A lot of the time. He slept almost every second night- a _record_ for Legolas- and seemed to feel the cold.

It took me a while to really see all of it and when I put it together, a week after we'd literally fallen into my world, a horrible thought crossed my mind. Had he decided to go mortal after all?

The weirdest afternoon happened literally the day we took Boromir home. I needed an orange urgently, I couldn't live a second without one, so Brian had reluctantly paused on the way to the hospital so I could get myself an organic orange. Of the right colour. I'd had to take Legolas- I needed his help with the wheelchair and Brian was at work again- and left him sitting on a bench in front of the shop.

When I'd come out, he wasn't there. I'd panicked for about three minutes, wheeling around, until I'd caught sight of the Elf bent over a fish tank in the nearby pet store. Just tiny goldfish, nothing special, but he stared at them as if they were the most fascinating creatures he'd ever met. And they stared back. They'd all, all sixty or so of the tiny things, gathered in one spot just inches from his face. It'd given me the weird impression that they were listening to him.

"I would like to adopt them." He informed the man, as I stood there fingering one of the oranges, Legolas glancing at me. "All of them."

"Seriously? We live in a shed."

"Have you not made arrangements for a home?"

I had, just that morning, and I supposed he'd overheard me with those magic Elf ears of his. I'd searched for rentals in the country, found a house they were willing to rent to me long term, and would be literally there tomorrow to sign papers and move in. Apparently in the country they didn't care about waiting- they were fine with me to just go ahead and move in. It would have been today if we hadn't had to pick up Boromir.

But house aside, there were other problems. Such as Legolas, who wanted the stupid things, returning to Middle Earth soon. I sighed. "But-"

"They were born just to die." Legolas muttered. He ignored the weird look he got from the pet store owner. "We must take them home."

They were? I glanced at the fish tank and sighed. They were. Goldfish for bigger fish. All bred just to feed large fish. But … "Leggy, we don't even have a place to put them..."

"Can we not pay for them and take them home when it is time?"

Paying for them wasn't a problem. One benefit of my 'career' had meant I'd collected a reasonable amount of money, which would last me a few years more even with the house I'd agreed to buy, so yeah. I could have afforded a tank. I HAD a place to put them too.

But... A bunch of tiny goldfish? And how would I even get them to our house? It was a two hour drive from here. Brian would have to help. He was going to anyway- I needed to move my stuff there in a couple of days. And maybe if the baby was anything like Legolas he could become a goldfish whisperer too. As my hesitation faded, Legolas smiled, and I knew I couldn't say no. Not even to Legolas.

"Fine." I sighed again. It was worth it though.

Legolas smiled, hugging me, kissing my forehead. "Thank you."

It was on our way out that things got really weird. Yes- the fish thing had been kind of amusing. But the weird part didn't come till after. Legolas had been wheeling me out to the parking lot to meet Brian. He froze, the wheelchair slowing as he did, eyes going up over Brian's car to someone across the street. Legolas frowned and he said softly, "You will have to excuse me. I will meet you at the house."

"Wait, what about-"

Brian was getting out. "You sure?"

"I need to talk with someone." Legolas nodded. His smile had faded now. He almost looked angry, which was weird, and I tried to sit up higher to see.

The problem with wheelchairs was that they were short. I couldn't see over the car who Legolas was eye-balling. He released the chair, Brian grasping onto it, and carefully lifted me into the back seat. Across the street I caught glimpses of someone, sort of, someone tall and ...well, as crazy as it sounded, Elf-like. They reminded me of Elves. But the cars kept passing by the shopping centre so fast that I couldn't really see much. The person had retreated back into a shop.

"Leggy, come on." I muttered.

"I know how to get a taxi. I have some money." Legolas responded, his eyes still across the street, but his attention on folding the wheelchair up now. He slid it into the spot beside me. "I will be there when you get home with Boromir to help. I promise."

"Good, because we'll need you." Brian muttered. "If he's as strong as he looks."

"How did you guys get the hospital to take him anyway?"

"Brian can explain." Legolas stood up and closed the door. I hurriedly wound the window down- Brian's car was OLD- and he leaned down to kiss my forehead in a quick tender gesture. "Relax. There is no problems."

And like that, he'd crossed the street and vanished to talk to that stranger.

"How did you do it?" I asked quietly as Brian pulled out of the car park slowly. I started to peel the orange slowly, juice going everywhere, cringing.

"Fake ID. How else?" He sighed. "Not easy to get hands on. Seriously. It worked though. Relax. We took care of it."

Boromir was wide awake by now, the restraints off, he'd more or less wizened up to 'Panic and that means sleep'. He was sitting up eating lunch when we came in, grinning a wide grin as I was wheeled in, holding his arms open. "Woman! You have come to rescue me."

He got off the bed, slowly, cringing as his body struggled. Boromir bent down to hug me in the wheelchair, moving slowly as he walked, his hug no where near as strong as it used to be, betraying just how weak he still was. At least he was alive. I had no doubt that if I'd left him in Middle Earth he wouldn't be here.

"Yeah, it's time to go. Did you sign the papers?" Brian asked as he lifted up a bag of things. Boromir's clothing, most likely. Or what was left of it.

"Just like you suggested." Boromir stood up slowly with a wince of pain. He lifted the tshirt to stare at the bandage. "This itches."

"It's a good sign. It means it's healing." A nurse was coming in. "All right. He's safe to go home. Don't take those bandages off for a week, wash with a cloth, you know what to do."

"I do." Boromir grinned , winking at her, and looked pretty smug when she flushed. "We'll visit."

"We won't." I muttered, reassuring her, but she didn't seem the least bit worried about the idea that Boromir might visit. "We're going home soon."

"When?" Brian asked quietly. He knew what I meant.

"In a few days, I guess, when the house is … you know. Signed and stuff. Sooner we get this one home the better." I nudged Boromir with my good foot. "You ready?"

"Aye. Show me to your home."

He was slow, even with his enthusiasm, walking beside the wheelchair and breathing in and out in slow measured paces. Boromir had pain killers too, clutched in one hand, his face white with pain when he had to lower into the car, looking just about ready to sleep again. It took him a few moments before he got his breathing back under control. By then I was in the car as well, wheelchair in the front seat beside Brian, and trying to breathe through my own pain that came with moving.

"Is this a carriage?" He asked,gazing around with faint interest when he'd gotten his breath back, adding, "Where's the horses?"

"Don't need them."

"What about the Elf?"

Brian climbed into the front seat. He glanced back at Boromir, then to me, muttering, "Let me know when you've prepared him for this."

"Okay." I responded. I twisted to Boromir. "It's like a carriage. Our worlds have some big differences and this thing... It moves very fast. It might be frightening at first..."

"Woman, I have lived much of my life upon the back of a horse, I have no fear of this." He was gazing out the window at the buildings. "This city is made of the strangest stone that I have ever seen."

"Most of it is made of metal." I said quietly. My mind was still on Legolas. _Taking to someone_. And the fact that he was older hung on my mind too. How old was he? Had Galadriel sent him here further back? Why would she even bother doing that? But what other possibility was there? As Brian turned the car on, causing Boromir to flinch, I added quickly,"Seat belt, Boromir."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, shit, didn't think of that." Brian muttered. He swung out of the driver's seat, the car rumbling, and opened Boromir's door. "Sorry. Um. My Lord..."

He actually flushed as he bent in over Boromir, clearly still very star struck by the whole 'They're seriously them' thing, and fumbled as he showed what I meant. Boromir stared at the thing and scowled. "This is painful."

"Yeah, but it's a law here. We wear it while the car's going. It saves lives."

"How!"

"Because if we crash then we don't get flung out of the front." I responded. I probably should have been more ...sensitive or something.

Boromir blinked at me. "Crash?"

Brian was back in the front seat by now and starting to drive. Boromir went pale as the car started to speed up. We weren't even going at normal speed yet- Brian had to get out of the parking lot first- but once we were on the road Boromir's face drained of blood and his hand grasped for mine hard.

"Faster than a horse, isn't it?" I muttered.

Boromir was trying to keep his eyes open, probably fighting with his ego, but it took him about three minutes. A massive truck passed us within inches on the highway. Boromir shut his eyes and twisted towards me, his hand tense around mine, flinching. No faking it, no attempt for my sympathy, this was probably hard for him to take.

"Did you watch any TV?" I muttered, as he sat there, eyes on me.

"I didn't think it was a good idea for him to watch it." Brian answered from the front. "Relax, mate, we'll be home soon."

Boromir didn't answer for a while, leaning against me, his breathing growing harsher. Then he suddenly muttered, "Why does this cart make me want to …"

Oh, shit. Something plastic was shoved at me, I only had enough time to recognise it as a plastic bag and to open it, before Boromir was sick.

He hung onto the bag right up until the moment we got home, stumbling out of the car, the bag tossed aside. Boromir headed for the garden and knelt there a long time. It took me a while to get out of the car with Brian's help and I had to wait on the path in the wheelchair while he stood with Boromir.

"You doing okay?"

Boromir didn't answer. He had his face almost pressed into the bushes. I sighed and twisted the wheelchair around, slowly, wheeling along the path for the shed. "Okay. Well. We sleep in here."

"Where? Wait a moment, woman, I'm coming."

I rolled into the shed, careful about the little step down onto the concrete ground, wheelchair dropping. It wasn't long before Boromir had followed, Brian close by, Boromir's face still white and tense. He stared around slowly. Then, to my shock, he turned and slammed the door.

"Hey, relax."

"I want everything that is strange out of here." Boromir snapped. He was staring around, face still tense, his breathing shallow.

"You in pain?"

"I have been sick with wounds all over. I am. That is not the problem. Wendy, please, where can I put those objects?" He was eyeing things, the lamp, the laptop, the rotating fan, and there was this surprising amount of ...panic. No, not panic, but close to it. Culture shock. Boromir didn't even wait for me to answer. He was lifting objects, flinching as power cords snapped out of the wall, and ignored me as I told him to stop. Boromir dumped them in the other room, ignoring power tools, cringing as his weak and pained body protested. Fuck.

"You're supposed to be resting. Relax. What are you doing?"

"I need … these objects out." Boromir growled softly. When he lifted the laptop I was quick to snatch it off, him, balancing it in my lap, because as much as I understood... there were some things too costly to break. He scowled at it. "Hide it."

Where was Legolas? I groaned, wheeling the wheelchair closer, tempted to risk pissing my doctors off a little by getting onto the crutches early. Two weeks, they'd said, but they didn't have a culture shocked Boromir tearing …

"That's a light bulb, you have to twist, not pull!" I hissed, as he reached up, the tall man easily finding it in his fingers. I got it just in time, Boromir was about to tug, and breathed out in relief as he twisted the lightbulb the right way. The last thing he needed was cut fingers. "What are you doing, you mad man?"

He didn't answer. I sighed and hid the laptop under the little sofa, sliding it there carefully with my good foot, and Boromir was only satisfied when the room was completely empty of every last object. He sunk down heavily onto the couch, breathing hard, lifting his shirt and throwing it aside with a soft growl.

"Don't take off the pants."

"I have no intention." Boromir muttered. He gazed at his stomach- it was covered in gauze, in tape, his fingers touching the edges. "I could not stand a moment longer in a room filled with strange objects."

"Well, we're going to need the lamps back if we need light.."

"Do you not have candles or a lantern?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll have to go buy some." Probably some fruit and vegetables too, and some meat, if he didn't want strange objects. My idea of dinner had been instant noodles- the shed had a kettle and I had little instant noodle cups. Fantastic. The idea would have to be scrapped now. I sat in the wheelchair, feeling kind of exhausted, and Boromir eyed it. Oh yeah. Wheelchair- also modern.

"Do you need that?" He muttered.

"I'm supposed to stay off my leg."

"Why?"

"They've repaired the muscle. I'll be able to walk if I'm smart. But I'm supposed to stay off my leg for a few more days."

Boromir frowned again, crossing his arms, tension on his face as he potentially ignored the wheelchair. I could see it – his body starting to grow tense again.

I sighed and stood up, slowly, careful to keep my weight on my good leg. Leaning on the edge of the couch I sat beside him, grasping for his hand, stroking it. "Boromir?"

"I am not ungrateful for … for the healing." He muttered. Boromir stared down at our hands, stared a long time, before he sighed and all the tension vanished in his body. He leaned against me, letting go of my hand so that he could wrap an arm around my shoulders, drawing me close. "I feel strange. Afraid. I feel as if I am going mad."

"Mad?"

"I lay there, seeing pieces of metal within my arm, blood vanishing into my body, watching strange lights dance across mirrors that had little reflection. Instruments and sounds with no origin. The healers, however, were kind. They helped me relax with their small pills. Now I cannot do it."

"Relax?" They'd sedated him, in other words, for the entire time he'd been in hospital. I supposed that made sense. "No more pills?"

"I have you. I need no more." Boromir's lips brushed my shoulder, his breathing slowing, other arm draping across his lap to grasp my hands. "What they did to me still hurts. Are you sure they are healers?"

"Baby. Of course they are. Your body won't heal straight away."

His hand slid up to turn my head towards his, Boromir kissing my forehead gently, leaning against my forehead as he breathed in and out slowly. "You cannot walk yet?"

"They said it might be a few months before I can do it properly. I can wheel around in that," I nodded at the wheelchair I'd somehow managed to get out of, "Or I can lean on crutches. Those things." I pointed at where we'd leaned the crutches.

"And this is … a home many live in?" Boromir's eyes went over the shed, the tiny beds, the couch, raising an eyebrow. Yeah. Even his home, however little I'd seen of it, was nicer than the shed. "Is this your home? I will build you one better."

"It's a shed." I responded. "It's where people store things. But this is Brian's ...um. Land."

Land was a stretch. It was a suburb, the land was barely bigger than the house or the shed, and Boromir actually leaned up to stare out the window.

"Brian is the man on your ...phone. Yes?" Boromir muttered. "I believed him to be the kind of man I would dislike but he would often come and read to me, to entertain me."

"He's not that bad." He'd improved since I'd gotten back. I'd actually seen Brian laughing, something I realised I hadn't seen him do for months before I'd vanished, and he seemed to be ...happy.

"No, he is not. It is funny what a man may say when he is in a bad place within his heart." Boromir agreed. His voice had grown soft and he leaned against me again, head against mine, hand stroking mine slowly. "I have longed to hold you once more."

"I..." There was that peace again, it wasn't something I could help, the peace that came with knowing things were okay. Boromir was okay. I slid my hand across his stomach, feeling his muscles contract, or the bumps of the stitches underneath. I had missed him. I sighed, leaning against him, his arms coming around to hug me hard. "Careful, you'll hurt yourself."

"You are the one not allowed to walk." Boromir muttered. He was sliding my pants up, slowly, the baggy pants easily and picked at the bandages there. "How long has this been on?"

"A while." I admitted. It itched too. I wanted to get the stupid thing off. "It keeps it safe. They said to only take it off when I started using the crutches. I've been wanting to take it off though. Take it off. I'll re-wrap it."

Boromir released me and started to undo it, pausing to check with a glance up to me, before he carefully undid the sticky tape that held it there. The tape had gone funny on the edges, already peeling somewhat, and I itched so much underneath. It was such a relief when I felt air against the hot skin underneath, felt the bandages slowly unwind, Boromir careful as he slid the bandage off.

We both stared at my leg, at the long line of stitches down the red and pink skin, still with flecks of dried blood underneath the wound from where it must have bled after. But it was sealed.

"What did they do?" Boromir asked quietly, fingers sliding down the side of my leg. "It is very straight. I do not recall it being so neat."

"They cut it open and sewed the muscles back together where they're meant to me. I think they did the same thing with you. You had a rib that was broken and healed wrong and... something to do with your arm."

Now that I looked closer, I did see it, this thin plaster on his lower arm.

"Aye, I remember." He responded. He leaned up to touch the arm that was bandaged, Boromir fingering it, blinking at it. "I agreed. This is a stiff bandage."

"You're lucky they didn't plaster it." I muttered. So maybe it wasn't such a bad fracture. I tried to smile, be happy, but I couldn't. I felt so awkward, tense and tired. I was happy to see him well but … I kept glancing outside, wondering where Legolas was, I felt frustrated and upset somehow.

Boromir stood up slowly, his movement slow and careful, and he reached down to touch the bandages. Before I could stop him he'd started to peel them off, one after the other, each of his stitched wounds much fresher than mine. I even saw blood still oozing... but that could have been related to his earlier attempt at making the shed 'middle earth friendly'. He stared at his body. "They have sewn my skin."

"It makes the wound heal faster." I explained. "Don't take it out." Come to think of it... Legolas had done the same thing to me. Did that mean Elves knew about it but men didn't? I stood up slowly, balancing carefully on my good leg, and tested the bad one. I nearly fell over, the pain of putting weight on it was not fun, and I fell back onto the couch. Nope. However healed the outside was... the inside wasn't going to heal as fast as I wanted. "Boromir, cover it up again. Yours isn't healed. It could get infected."

"I will re-wrap it. Where is Legolas?" Boromir pressed his fingers against the wounds, cringing, reaching up to touch another one. "They found the arrow in my shoulder, I see."

"How the hell did you fight with a fractured arm and an arrow in you?" I muttered. "Crazy man."

He grinned at me. "Hungry man. Where is my meal, woman?"

"We have to buy it. I don't really have anything." This was at least a relief from the massive elephant in the room and how conflicted I felt. It was a good reason to get up and to get out again. I stood up slowly, leaning on the edge of the couch, and managed to get into the wheelchair without it rolling away under me. "You can wait here, read a book or something, I'll be back. I'll go to the supermarket quickly..."

"I'm coming. Markets? How different can they be?"

"You'll see. Put your stupid shirt back on and we'll go."

Some part of me hoped that Legolas would reappear before we left for the supermarket. It was a short walk, at least, no more than ten minutes down the street from the house Brian lived in. Boromir stopped every time a car passed, which was often, but at least he seemed to cheer up somewhat. The prospect of food usually did that to people.

We entered the supermarket, beautifully cool compared to the heat outside, and Boromir breathed out in relief.

"Tis wonderful and cool in here." He said softly. Boromir gazed out across the supermarket ailes, the fruit and vegetables piled high, his eyes widening. "Is this really a market?"

"It's called a super market for a reason. Every thing's here. Look. Grab one of the baskets." I pointed at the little hand basket things. "You carry whatever I decide to buy. Um. Okay. This is how it works. We pick things up off shelves or off the tables. We don't bite them, eat them, open them or do anything more than collect them. Then we go there-" I pointed at the cash registers, "-where I exchange coin for what I've picked. It's easy."

Boromir nodded. He smiled, leaning down to kiss my head, cringing as his body had to bend low. "Then we will buy food. You must tell me what this is!"

And before I could stop him, he'd rushed into the fruit section to pick up a pineapple.

It took me about three seconds to realise I needed to get a trolley instead. Boromir wandered from vegetable to fruit and back again, pacing up and down, his energy starting to build up as his excitement grew. Maybe it was because there was no real viable technology, except for the hot chickens he stood for ten minutes admiring, or maybe because it was closer to something familiar. I was glad I'd reminded him to put a tshirt on. Even with it on, people gawked at the tall man, girls openly checked him out, and Boromir thrived in the attention. He haggled with the people at the deli- I'd thought a roast chicken would be a quick easy thing for all of us- and got us THREE chickens for the price of one.

"Boromir, I don't even know where we'll put this stuff." We didn't have a fridge in the shed.

"I am hungry. I will eat them." He responded, lowering the bags into the trolley, before Boromir pointed at fish. "Those as well."

"Fish?"

And before I could protest, he'd started to haggle for a couple of fish, as he admired their 'ice keeping skills', blissfully unaware of the fridges environment they were in. I had to put a stop to it before he bought EVERYTHING. We hadn't even left the vegetable and fruit area yet- the deli was next to it- and I cringed as I thought about what he'd be like in the asiles.

It was at this point that I caught sight of a woman with her children. She looked stressed, as they raced around picking things up, darting backwards and forwards in an attempt to rescue loaves of bread and other things. With a loud whisper that must have been heard by everyone in the area, she hissed, "One thing each. It's either the bread roll or the chocolate bar. NOT BOTH."

It gave me an idea.

Once he'd gotten the fish, I grabbed his arm, tugging him down to my height. Boromir bent down with a swift kiss, hard and affectionate, his eyes crinkled with a genuine smile again. "Yes, my love?"

"From now on, you're allowed one thing. Anything you like... but only one more thing."

"Anything?"

"Yes, and you can explore looking for it," That way I'd get five minutes to get the stuff we needed, "-but don't leave the building and bring it back. To me. I'll pay for it."

And like that, he vanished.

As difficult as it was to wheel around with a trolley, it was peaceful, and the supermarket manager was quick to turn up with one of their employees to help me out. More oranges, a pineapple for the poor Boromir, a coconut for me, pregnancy vitamins, pasta and bottled sauce, whatever I could get that didn't need a fridge or that we'd use that night. It was a bit of a waste, yeah, but till I actually BOUGHT that house...

I did buy chocolate. Chips. I needed relaxation and I suspected so did he.

Boromir reappeared seconds after I heard alarms go off, trailed by a red faced security person, grinning as he held something out. Alcohol. Whisky, to be exact, a massive bottle of it. "This."

"Where did you get _that_?"

"Sorry, Sir, you have to pay for that … in the liquor department!"

Oh, bloody hell. I groaned and rubbed my head. Supermarkets usually had separate areas for this stuff. This store, because it was illegal to sell alcohol in a supermarket within Queensland, had a separate shop OUTSIDE. Same building, sort of, but different entrance. Different shop.

"I told you to stay here!"

"In the building!"

"Boromir, it's the ru... the law to pay for this kind of thing in the other shop. That way they can stop kids from buying it." I groaned. The poor security guy was red faced, young, maybe it was his first real 'conflict. "Sorry. He doesn't know the rules here."

"Ah, of course. A law!" Boromir was surprisingly cheerful. Maybe the idea of laws was something he got, seeing as he tended to enforce them in Minas Tirith, and to the poor security guy's shock he banged the back of the poor man, who nearly fell over, clearly happy. He liked laws. "Then I will wait. We will come purchase your liquor soon."

"I'll … uh. Put it behind the counter for you." The man didn't seem to know what to make of Boromir.

I decided it was best to just continue to shop. Get it finished, get out of here, and get home. Give Boromir a bag of chips and hope he'd be distracted enough to relax. Behind me, Boromir followed, trailing after me, exclaiming softly with every new fruit and vegetable. Red potatoes? Yep. Red potatoes. Apples of three kinds! Yep, that too. I ended up having to modify my 'one item' rule and I let him choose three fresh fruit or vegetables to try. His interest was infectious.

His muscles came in handy by the time we got out of there. I shoved the bags at him, let him carry them as I bought his choice of booze, which was naturally one of the most expensive whiskeys there, and we headed out into the hot sun. The chocolate bar I'd bought him kept him distracted from the traffic.

Still he looked relieved to get out of the back of the car, standing quickly, and we headed inside the shed. Fan. With a wave of another chocolate bar, Boromir carried it back inside, and even plugged it back in for me. With a sigh of relief I had Boromir turn it on and instantly he was relaxed.

He stood there in front of the fan, eating chocolate, the cool air drawing his hands to the metal cage around the fan. "This is wondrous."

"Don't touch the spinning blades."

"I am no child, woman." He grunted when he caught me watching him. Boromir turned and flopped near the fan. "I know fast blades are dangerous."

"You probably feel like I did in Rivendel." Sort of. Maybe times several million, sure, but it was similar. I slowly lined up the food we'd bought on the little crooked table in the corner, stuffing bags inside each other, and checking my phone for news of Legolas.

Legolas didn't return before it got dark. We ate, Boromir was exhausted fast, the pain killers kicking in as he ate. But somehow it didn't stop him from finishing all three of the roast chickens, half a salad, and a large bottle of water. Once I'd re-dressed his wounds- I refused to let him lie down till he did- he dropped onto the couch and fell asleep within minutes.

It was late when Legolas returned. I hadn't been able to sleep, I'd been so worried, but Brian had promised me everything was okay- that he was with Legolas or something. Weird. I leaned up in bed, book aside, watching as he came into the dark shed. He held his finger to his lips as he slipped in, walking across to run a hand across my shoulders, kneeling beside me.

"I am sorry. You ate?"

"Boromir ate. I wasn't that hungry. Did you get lost? Did Brian find you?"

"No. I did not get lost. Brian wished to show me food from '_your world_'. " Legolas rested down on the ground beside me, shutting his eyes, sliding his hand into mine. "He seems as flushed around me as a young girl in love. He could not stop talking of this world. I am exhausted."

It was the final straw- this simple touch, even with Boromir here, and I knew that even if I married Boromir... this was exactly how I'd feel. Torn. For the rest of my life. Every time Legolas came to visit his baby or Aragorn, he'd be there, and I'd be unable to leave his side a moment.

"I can't do it, can I?" I said quietly. "Leave you."

"You never did. Did you?" Legolas said softly. It was true though. He leaned up to kiss my hand, lying on his back, gazing up. "But you are right. There were other things I had to do. You could not stay with me as I did them. I do not doubt you love Boromir but … I do not think you realise why you feel you need him so much. Not yet."

His words confused me. I stared at Legolas, but he wasn't looking at me, and the awkward angle of the bed made it hard to read his face anyway. "What do you mean?"

"It will come to you."

There it was again, that weird feeling, and I twisted over slowly, my bad leg carefully resting on the edge of the bed. I gazed down at him. He had shut his eyes, his fingers entwined around mine, and even in the dim light of the streetlight outside I saw the lines on his face. Remembered my feeling earlier. The feeling that … maybe he was different now.

"Leggy, are you mortal?"

"No. I am still blessed with the gift of my kin. But I am older."

"Why are you older? Did you come here earlier than me?" Another thought was growing in my mind. An impossible thought. One that I couldn't even bring myself to believe.

"Because I am. It is true- I have been here longer than you know." He responded. Legolas stood up, slowly, and crawled onto my bed, lying in his bed beside me. "I_ have _missed you. But... you are distracting yourself from that which really upsets you. Think on what I have said and rest. When you understand, I will explain, but not tonight. I need to rest and sleep."

"Know? How?"Legolas was falling asleep, avoiding me, and I was trying to avoid what I'd have to say to Boromir tomorrow. I groaned softly. That OTHER idea wouldn't go away. "Leggy..."

Legolas didn't answer. His breathing had slowed. If he was faking it, he was doing a good job of it, and I didn't want to wake Boromir. I had to let it go for the night. Had to focus on the positives. Boromir wasn't dying, he was healthy, and he had booze. Tomorrow... we could talk. All three of us.

I swallowed the two painkillers for the night, curled up, and let the drugs help me sleep.


	30. The Past, present and future

Boromir wasn't around when I woke. Legolas was, sitting cross legged on the floor beside the laptop, and I watched through a mess of hair as he used it. Used the laptop. Not like a pro exactly, I had to admit, he reminded me of an old man. Suspicious, tapping slowly, and taking his time.

He would sigh, from time to time, rubbing his forehead. Yeah. Making faces like an old man too.

"Fine."

It took me a moment to realise he wasn't speaking to me. There was something in front of him- a phone- and he glanced down at it. "Fine. I accept that cost. I'll call later."

And with that, he touched the phone and I heard the hang up sound.

It was so strange to see him like this. I shut my eyes, breathing out slowly, as I heard him close the laptop with a soft click. What was going on with him? Some part of me didn't like it much. It didn't suit him.

"Boromir needed to go to the bathroom. Brian has taken him under his wing."

It took me a few moments to realise that Legolas was talking to me now. I opened one eye and gazed upwards to him, as he came to kneel beside me, his fingers brushing the crazy hair out of my face. "They have already left? I have to talk to him! I'm _motivated_!" I sat up too fast, a wave of pain stabbing me from my thigh upwards, and grimaced. "Left where? He's only just gotten out of hospital, for crying out loud, where is he?" I wanted to talk to him. To … well, I wasn't sure, just to explain something. Somehow. I cared about him, I even loved him, but nothing like … like I was supposed to for a marriage. And I had to tell him that _right now._

"Boromir wished to see some forest. His wounds are healing, they have been covered, and his hunger is strong. I do not think you have to worry about his desire to grow strong. Brian was very happy to take him and ask him questions. They will be back after lunch. We," He added, "are going somewhere else today."

"But I..." I sighed. Motivation would have to wait. "Okay. Where are we going?"

Legolas nodded. He lifted me up carefully, sliding his arm under my legs and around my chest, leaning down to kiss my shoulder. I wanted to push him back. "It is a surprise."

"Leggy, don't..."

"Touching you is now as important to me as breathing or sleeping." Legolas muttered. He leaned against me as he lowered me down, sliding a hand over my stomach, his nostrils flaring as the entire half of his body pressed against my side, maybe a little more than usual, some shadowed hunger appearing over his gaze. He hid it fast as he quickly stood backwards. "As is listening to our child. Shower before we leave?"

"How are we leaving?"

"I have help."

That was about as much information as he gave me. Bathroom and shower, only this time I found that I could stand in the shower with a crutch, and once again I found that it was amazing just to be able to stand. Naked. Without even a bandage. And when I went to stand in the mirror, halfway to dressed, I stared at my stomach a long time. It had been only a few weeks here but I was clearly pregnant now, clearly growing, and it was ... humbling. It was the first time I really GOT that this was happening.

"No more crazy drain rides." I muttered. I gazed down at the baby bump. When the door opened, I didn't panic, but just watched as Legolas shut the door and slid inside. "Look. Baby."

"You are gorgeous."

I tried to smile and relax. Instead I pulled a tshirt on, quickly, and tugged the skirt up my stomach. Stress dogged at me. This couldn't go on. If not for me, for baby, and I knew ... I knew if I didn't do something I wouldn't be able to deal with either of them. But … I had to stop, had to stare at my stomach again, this reminder. It wasn't bad. Some things were great. And I was staring at one of them.

"Is this really going to work out okay? I don't want to hurt Boromir..."

"That's not something you could have ever avoided." Legolas leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, eyes still on the tiny curve of my stomach. A soft warm smile had spread across his face.

"Yeah, it could, if I just gave into him."

"And would that really make him happy? Watching you carry my child? Seeing your conflict as I come to you, and to my son?"

And when he saw how much Legolas meant to me. I could picture it. Legolas coming back to Minas Tirith, riding, and from the second I saw him and Gimli, I'd be ...his. Maybe not literally. But I'd be unable to touch Boromir, to look at him, my entire mind and attention would be on Legolas until well after the day he was gone. Yes, I knew Boromir loved me, and I did love him. But … not enough. If Boromir had a girlfriend and she treated him as I was abut to do... I'd tell him off and I'd hate her.

It wasn't fair to Boromir. I knew he cared about me. I knew he genuinely wanted to protect and love me.

"You won't die, if I..." I hesitated. I still had my top up, still stroking over the bump, I couldn't get enough of it. Of _him_. This baby had been conceived in Lothlorien, survived all kinds of battles, and … I really had to be much more careful from now on. "You know. Lord Elrond said that if you chose to... you would die."

"If you wait for my return every year? If you let us remain as lovers and married?"

"Will it be yearly? But …yeah. Will you die young before he's an adult? I mean, die with me?"

Legolas laughed. The sound echoed around the bathroom, shocking me with how serious this was, and he shook his head. "No. No. I promise you now, I will be alive for a great many years, and will spend many of them with our child."

Then why hadn't he … why hadn't he stayed close to me in Minas Tirith? Why hadn't he told me this there and then? Or at least supported me? I wanted to kick Legolas but … one more glance at him in the bathroom, at the expression on his face, the way his eyes couldn't leave my stomach, and I couldn't do it. Instead I got that 'he's older' feeling. And if I let it go now I'd ...think I was crazy. Let it go. So I turned on him as I pulled my t-shirt down for good and asked, "Legolas, tell me what happened? _How_ are you older?"

"I will tell you soon."

"Now." I snapped. My stress at him spilled over. Not just about now, but about his behaviour in Minas Tirith, and earlier, the way he'd just emotionally and physically vanish on me. All the time. Legolas actually looked taken back when I snapped and it didn't improve my temper. "You always do this. Hide things. Vanish. When I get stressed you vanish. When I get upset, you vanish, and all I want is for you to stay and listen and... be there!"

As I spoke my voice echoed around the bathroom, only adding to the effect, and some strange tiredness reappeared in Legolas face. He leaned against the sink and stared ahead.

"Be there."

"Yes! I mean, not when you're off doing fate related things, but when you're with me... just be there. Be around. Why are you always vanishing on me?"

"I am sorry." Legolas muttered. He met my eyes. "I regret it. Every moment I decided to let you have time with your own mind. I regret every second I left you alone like that. At the time I believed that I should not influence your choice..."

"But you did it anyway just by ignoring me all the time! I just wanted to be _held_."

Arms held me hard then, Legolas kicking the bathroom door shut, kissing me hard as he held onto me. Something in me broke, not sexual desire, but just … desire. For this, for his smell, his arms, his stupid silky hair, the familiar taste he had. He wasn't just holding me, he was devouring me, and I held on for dear life as he kissed hard. Or tried to- my bad leg screamed in pain when I tried to hold onto him.

This seemed to get his senses back and he stood back, just an inch, breathing hard, Legolas' eyes clouded with barely concealed lust and affection. "Do you … not want to wait... to talk to him first?"

I did. I groaned against his lips, feeling Legolas press hard against me, my lips already swollon from the hard desperate kiss. He barely seemed able to release me but he did, slowly, hand sliding down the outside of my leg.

"I will not push you into hurrying." He muttered. But he didn't seem all that convinced. Legolas groaned, shutting his eyes, pressing his hands against his head. "But you must give me... some time to relax."

Relax? I knew what THAT meant. Legolas could barely look at me, his breathing was hard, and when he offered the crutches I took them without an argument.

"Meet you in the shed then?" I offered. He nodded and I slowly hobbled out, keeping weight off the bad leg, glancing as the bathroom door was shut.

It took Legolas about an hour before he emerged, his hair damp, relaxed once more. Sort of. I'd never thought of Elves as being sexual before, not like I had after I'd met him, but the look on his face when he caught me sprawled in front of the fan, skirt up around my thighs, my tshirt bunched up so that I could get as much cool air on me as possible...

I'd almost wondered if he'd need another shower.

Legolas bent down to lift me up, slowly, helping me to my feet while he held out the crutches for me. I was relieved he didn't insist on the wheelchair- that stupid thing bothered me.

"Your meeting is this afternoon for the house, isn't it?" He asked, reaching around me to kiss the back of my neck, this soft tenderness back after the less controlled thing earlier.

"Yeah. At three. We had to leave at one..." Only Brian was gone. I tried to stay calm. "Brian was going to drive..."

"We are going somewhere for lunch. I am sure he will be back in time." Legolas started outside, lifting a bag as he went, and held the door open for me.

We met a taxi. I supposed that had to be why he was gone in the house so long, maybe, or maybe he'd already planned it. Who knew. But Legolas had a couple of bags with him and he sat there, eyes down on them, ignoring the window.

"How are you okay with cars?" I muttered.

"I learned to think of better things." Legolas responded, eyes darting up briefly, and then he met my gaze. He smiled a tense smile. "The trick is to control fear before it controls you."

"Oh."

"This I learnt from Dune."

Oh. Okay. Legolas had seen Dune. Sure. Why not? I eyed the bags in his lap, holding onto the crutches, and tried to focus. Legolas. Boromir. Oh bloody hell. Why couldn't I just zap to the future, get Boromir a loving android or something, and then ...everyone would be happy?

With this in mind I didn't really see where we were going until we were in the city itself. Brisbane had a massive Botanical gardens right beside the river and the taxi stopped right outside the edge. Legolas helped me out and led me through the gardens, the warm late summer sun beating down on both of us, and when we reached the edge near the river a breeze sprung up and made the heat bearable. In the shade, anyway.

Legolas unpacked a blanket and dropped it down carefully, before helping me down, and he sprawled across the blanket next o me easily.

"A picnic?" I asked, amused, but I had to admit it was nice. With a sigh of relief- the wind was relaxing- I lay on my back and relaxed there.

"A different breakfast idea." Legolas agreed, reaching out to brush hair away from my face, tenderness on his face. "Do you mind?"

"No." I breathed out slowly. "Not really." I tried to relax. It wasn't happening. I felt stiff and awkward.

"Turn over."

"First, tell me how old you are."

"I will. As I relax you." Legolas leaned up slowly, 'helping' me turn over, so careful with my leg. He knelt across my back, running his hands up and down the muscles, leaning down to kiss the back of my neck. It was so strange- being in the middle of Brisbane with an Elf on my back- but it was so hard to stay tense. So damn hard.

"I am old."

I groaned softly. Evasive answer. "Leggy..."

"I did not count the years. But … I did not come with you, injured. Instead I had to remain behind. There was those hundreds of years that I spent beside Gimli, and the hundreds of years more that we spent in the Undying Lands."

Oh good god. The man was... "Hang on, what about Lady Galadriel?"

"Lady Galadriel reassured me that you would come but I would have to wait." Legolas was pressing fingertips into muscles. It was impossible not to groan when he found a tense spot, eyes shut now, my body slowly relaxing. He sounded distant as he said, "I have not forgotten anything. You still grow tense there when you are upset."

"So … how long?"

"There was a long time in the Undying Lands." Legolas responded, his hands continuing to ease and massage me into a relaxed state, his lips joining in as they found the sensitive nape of my neck from time to time. "It was known by many names by the humans who stumbled upon it. Lemuria was the common name..."

"Atlantis?"

"No, that was later." Legolas chuckled softly. "It was destroyed by many small earthquakes. We had warning, the earthquakes slowly crumbled and sunk the land, and Elves could organize. There was not one place we all went to- some rejoined the human races and vanished. Most came to create Atlantis. By then, the world of men had grown so vast and wide that it had taken to the seas, and we would trade often."

"But what about you? All that time..."

"Truthfully, my love, until the men came to our shores and started trading, I barely noticed. No Elf measured time until then." Legolas leaned down to lie beside me, a hand still sliding up and down my back, and he reached for the bag. He held out a fruit salad, still in a bowl and wrapped in plastic, and leaned there beside me as he unwrapped his own. "Without time, without care for it, I cannot say if Lemuria was there for a hundred years, a thousand, or ten thousand. It was both a long time and felt as if no time had passed at all. Gimli did not age. Nor did Frodo or Gandalf. There was no way to measure the time."

"Sounds nice."

"It was nice. I missed you." He leaned forward, kissing me suddenly, tasting of strawberries and watermelon. Legolas dropped his bowl, moved mine out of the way, twisting me onto my back suddenly. I felt it. How much he'd missed me. Impossible not to, really, he was almost eating me. Legolas leaned back, suddenly, exhaling sharply as he shut his eyes. I groaned, disappointment flooding me, staring at him.

That was right. We were in a public park. I'd almost not have cared right now. His need, his desire, it was impossible to not feel through the bond.

"Atlantis was when we noticed time again. When the Elves began to feel it once more and could not avoid feeling the world turning and aging. That was when I started to feel your absence. As Gimli's body resumed aging once more." He sighed, shutting his eyes, grief starting to show. Legolas slid closer, resting his head against my arm. "The younger of us would be the ones to live through those times. Many of us preferred to remain quiet, even sleep for months at a time, and only a few of the ancient ones would stay awake. I did until Gimli died, until Frodo passed away as an old man, and then I hid from time with the others. There was another time when we had to move- as the volcano of Atlantis woke- and we moved on once more. This time underground. We have created cities under the earth, vast beautiful places of forests and trees where few man has walked, having hid ourselves. There were few we welcomed, of men, but we did welcome some. Only the past several hundred years have Elves started to emerge. We felt it was needed."

"Because men are destroying everything?"

Legolas nodded, reaching up to stroke my face, and there was something in his face suddenly. Amusement. Pride. Even with the grief for Gimli it was there. "Because an Elf with a heart that had not aged refused to sit in a hole any longer."

He laughed softly. "If he had not, I may have not realised it was so close to the time you returned. But then time passed so slowly since then." Legolas shut his eyes, adding quietly, "I almost wish I could ask you to remain here."

"I can call you..."

"Do not call me. Do not take your phone, do not contact me, or your friend Brian, for the time of this world will match yours as it did this time. Did you not wonder why Lord Elrond was wrong?"

"You mean, how he said no time would pass, but it did?" I muttered.

Legolas nodded. "Because having a connection, through the energy of your phone, moved each world side by side. If you were to leave, now, and be in the past for one year without contacting me, you would return to my side right here at this moment. But if you contact myself or Brian after just a year, this world will have also moved ahead one year. The same rule will apply for ten, twenty years, and ... that is just how the laws come with such a strange thing." He sighed heavily. "I do not fully understand the reason. I only understand the rules."

So I'd have to wait twenty years. Legolas, on the other hand, would only wait a moment.

"Lord Elrond said I had to bring our son back here though."

"You will, I think, and it may be strange for the two of us to meet when you are spending so much time with myself as a ... younger Elf." Legolas nodded. "I am not sure what you did. If you ask me to leave, I will, but if you ask me to stay, that I will also do. I do not feel pain at the... I DID NOT feel pain at the idea of ...us. Now. I am myself, I am Legolas then, and now, and so there is no betrayal."

Yeah. That was weird. Loving Legolas now and loving Legolas then too. ...but then, he was right. He was the same Elf. Just older. "If you had to leave... if it was too weird?"

"I would wait. A month, a year, twenty." Legolas responded. No hesitation. No doubt. I didn't have any doubt. I couldn't spend time here, a month, three, without missing him. I could do it... sure. But ... "Then ...stay. I mean. If you're sure you don't mind..."

"With your love? No." He smiled suddenly, relaxing, reaching out to hug me hard. "No. Never. I was ... this is what I want, what I hoped for. I have so much... so much to show you. To tell you. But-" Legolas' smile faded a moment, "It cannot be shared with my younger self."

"Okay."

"Not even a hint. Only that which I already knew- the place, date and time that I would find you in those drains."

"Got it."

"And you must not tell our son either."

That... was a funny statement. I blinked at him. "Why would I... why would tha..."

I got it suddenly. This shock ran through me at his words, a thrill, heart suddenly kicking into life as excitement flooded me. Legolas wasn't alone here. That mysterious meeting. The way he vanished. Talked on the phone. The laptop. "...Leggy, he's around, isn't he."

The lack of an answer was exactly what I waited for. Legolas hesitated and I suddenly swung my head around as if expecting to see... I didn't know. Some familiarish face in the park.

"He is not here." Legolas muttered. He groaned softly. "Yes. Yes- he is here. But not around. He is not all-"

"Screw that, Leggy, I want to see my baby."

"Not until you have given birth. He must not talk you while you carry him."

That was weird. "But he's a ...blob."

"No. He is listening." Legolas responded. He pressed his hand against my stomach, slowly, and leaned down. "Even if he will not remember it. He is aware of your movements, your heartbeat, your emotions. I do not think it is worth risking. After the birth, I have promised, you and your son will... find each other. Until then, he remains hidden, as do you."

"Are you sure?" I tried. "I mean... maybe..."

"Long ago I studied this. I spent years, in the hope I could understand it and come to you faster, only to come to understand it and how it could not change. So I am very sure."

That was disappointing and a relief. I felt completely shy at the idea of meeting my baby before I'd even … well, I didn't even have an ultrasound photo. I rested back on my back, shutting my eyes, the warm sunshine against my bare feet. My belly was full, the day warm, and the sound of the fountain nearby was relaxing me. I could wait. It almost didn't seem real. "Okay. I can wait. Too tired to be worried about it."

I felt Legolas relax down on the blanket beside me, offering a juicy slice of watermelon, and I accepted it with a soft sigh. We ate, quiet, the entire weight of what he'd just told me sitting on my head. So long. I couldn't even begin to fathom how much time he'd waited. For me. I just knew that I would have done the same thing and how frightening the future would be if I'd had to wait thousands of years, stay alive, and ...still be able to make it to his side.

After I ate, I slept, dozing in the cool breeze and the warm summer day, knowing that Legolas was keeping watch. He only spoke when I woke up properly again, now on his back, asking softly, "Have you been tired much?"

"I guess so." I admitted. "Is that really surprising with all that's been happening?"

"Let me help."

I felt his hand carefully lift my bad leg, his other hand turning me towards him, and let him guide me. I ended up on my side, my bad leg supported by his legs, one of his hands slowly and gently stroking my hair out of my face and off my shoulders. I opened one eye as I felt something soft offered. His jacket, all folded up, made into a makeshift pillow. I should have laughed. It was like he couldn't resist touching me for any reason.

"There, comfortable?"

"Mmm." I agreed. Yeah. I was. I breathed out slowly, relaxing, his smell all over the jacket. He smelt stronger now, more than he used to, and I had to assume this was his 'old Elf smell'.

We lay there a while, ignoring people in the park around us, dozing on and off. Or at least I did- I would wake from time to time, staring sideways at him as he lay on his back, the city of Brisbane behind him. Legolas hadn't changed much. Same taste in colour, the tans, the greens, the natural shades of the world, and however modern his clothing was, he made it look like it would have looked equally at home on a ranger or something in Middle Earth. Practical, used, faded in places, some places stitched up. His hair was the same, long, silvery blonde, and if there was grey it was too light to tell. But he did have lines around his eyes, faint ones, and that 'older' ...thing. Old tree. He felt like an ancient tree, I realised, it may have been close to the same shape as it used to ...but it wasn't.

I noticed he hadn't lost his habit of his knives, I could see the tip of one jutting out of the dark brown jacket. The police would have a heart attack if they knew what he concealed inside his jacket.

I breathed out slowly, sliding closer, and shut my eyes as he pulled me against his chest. His heart sounded the same too.

"You haven't changed much." I said quietly. No argument with this either. Just appreciation. I was glad the world hadn't changed him.

"Elves have trouble changing. That is why the ancient have hidden away. Only the young are comfortable..." He sighed slowly, tension released as the air was released, turning towards me. "But I am comfortable in this world with you in it. It is your world."

"Did I prepare you for this?"

"You talked of it often, yes." Legolas reached up to play with my hair. "When it came, this world, I was more prepared for the swift change of man than the other kin. They are afraid of what humans are becoming. I … found it useless to sit hidden and complain, and so I came into the world early, and did my best to lessen the damage."

"You mean climate change and all of that?"

"Yes." Legolas nodded. "I did, as did a number of the younger Elves, and we continue to … assist. Science is something I struggle with but the younger Elves adapt to it easily."

"Science." I laughed softly. Oh god. Elf scientists hidden amongst the real ones. "Climate change scientists are Elves?"

"Some of them are. Some are engineers, some are social workers, some are monster truck drivers. The youth have adapted so easily to this world." He chuckled softly. "Your son is not a youth but he too has found no problems surviving. He works with the government even now to lessen environment damage. His energy is something no other Elf his age can understand."

"Elves are here."

"Yes."

Woah. I wasn't sure I could believe Legolas was here. I felt kind of mad all of a sudden and had to lean up, gazing down at him, prodding his face. "And you're here. I'm not lying in the middle of the park, on my own, talking to thin air." I had to glance around me, check to see if anyone was staring, but ...nope. Nothing.

"I am also here." He responded. There was the shadow of a smile as I felt something grasp my behind, suddenly, Legolas leaning up to kiss my throat. "As are you."

"This is crazy. How long did you wait?"

"It could have been a lot longer." He laughed and slid his hand along the side of my face, cupping it, kissing me again and again. "It could have been eternity. Stop asking about the past now. Think of our future. Your home."

My home! Oh crap. I fumbled for the phone, half lost amongst blanket and picnic bag, and stared at the time. I tried to move my bad leg and groaned in pain as thigh muscles failed and the entire leg just collapsed onto the ground- it was amazing just how much the entire fricken leg NEEDED the thigh muscles to do the work- I'd never thought about it till now. But I had more important things to stress about. Like the stupid rental. "We have to be there in half an hour, Leggy! What have we been doing?"

"You don't need to go." Legolas slowly slid up. "Calm."

"Yeah, I do, I can't just raise a baby in Brian's shed."

Something fell over my head, a long chain, fingers drawing hair out of the way. I stared at it. Two keys. A long old one and a newer one?

"No, you can raise him in the home we built." Legolas leaned against my shoulder, breathing out slowly, and added, "As can I."

"You ...built me a home?"

"Stone by stone, as Gimli once did, lo... long ago." He trailed off, voice softening, some measure of sadness there. Legolas breathed out slowly. "I learnt much from him. There is a home built closer to the way you remember from Middle Earth, crafted as a dwarf may have, but with the modern needs. I'm afraid our son would not let me build it without electricity... though I would have happily built it simple."

"I do like toilets." I admitted. "Even if I don't mind avoiding the rest."

Legolas laughed and squeezed me from behind. "I must confess I do too. But I am old now. There is a home now, built of stone and wood from the land it stands on, and half of it is built as homes are in this world. The other half is without electricity or lights, or plumbing, for I needed … a home too. The kind I am used to. It will give you something beautiful to live in, something filled with memories, and … I hope it is what you like."

"I'm sure I'll love it. Did you … really? You built me a house?" I couldn't believe it even _now_. "How? Are you rich?" I had to admit... I felt hope at that idea. Big time hope. My heart fell when he laughed and shook his head.

"No, my love, not rich. But we have worked hard- your son and myself- to buy you a home we know you will love. We have built it ourselves, brick by brick, as the years go on. We took many photos for you." Legolas smiled. "It was all I have thought of, all I have allowed myself to do, from the day of your birth onwards so that I would not find you too early and take you away from your father." My father. Oh god. Legolas had been here the whole time. Sadness filled me as he twisted away a moment for the bag. Then he slid something into my lap. A photo album. "I think you may see the photos."

I took the photo album and stared at the cover. My heart had started to beat again, fast, nerves filling me. "Does it have photos of him too?"

"Yes." Legolas didn't panic. He didn't take it from me. He just relaxed again on the picnic blanket, shutting his eyes, softer, "I know you have seen him as an adult. I remember this being one thing you could not keep from me- describing our son in vast detail. Do not take the photos with you and all will be well. If you are ready to see him."

Was it crazy that I felt shy all of a sudden? Stunned? Exited, sure, but ... nervous. I fingered the photo album, a plain dark brown leather album that was heavy with photos, at least three inches thick, and ...hesitated.

"Is he... healthy?" I asked quietly.

"My love, there is no man more healthy, no half-Elf stronger in mind or body, or in heart." Legolas' had this pride in his face, this real pride, as he nodded. "I speak as his father, of course, but ... he is much like you."

"As bad as you with pet fish?"

That brought back the amusement. Legolas grinned a sheepish grin, which made the age return to his face, and shook his head. "No. He has forbid me from entering any pet store. I will ...not hear the end of what I asked you to do."

"You talk to him?"

"At least once a week, if not more." Legolas nodded.

"Can you... at least tell him? You know. That i ... I already love him. And ... I " I didn't know. "I guess I wish I could see him now. Meet him."

Legolas nodded. He reached out to grasp my hand, tight, squeezing it. "He knows but I ...I will tell him. Perhaps you may write to each other until it is time for you to take Boromir home. Now. Would you like to see those photos or would you like me to take them until you're ready?"

I wanted to see them. That didn't change how nervous I felt suddenly. "You two built it?"

"We did have help, of course, but who knows your heart better than myself or your son?" Legolas slid across, careful of my leg as he drew me into his lap, wrapping his arm around me. He breathed in with a long shudder. "I have missed you. I have ... had to be very careful to not hurt you. After so long I have only entertained thoughts of ...what I would do to you. Now, if you like, for no one is around..." The last statement was barely a whisper, something flaring in his eyes as my weight settled on his lap, and I felt his hand slide up my leg. That desire that kept flaring up, that he kept trying to push away for a better time, was starting to take over. He muttered,"You smell as you always did."

"Oh? Tell me about that after." I grinned, as he shut his eyes, digging my hips down into him. Okay. If Legolas was himself, which I had no doubts about, it meant he probably hadn't …gotten lucky... for a very long time now. Honestly, my brain couldn't even begin to comprehend how LONG he'd waited, but … still, some feminine instinct rose up, the urge to tease him, to love him, to make his self-control snap. And it would. I knew it would. Elves pretended to be all controlled but suppressing their impulses usually made the explosion of impulse all the more amusing.

But first, the photos.

I lifted the first cover and leaned against his back, as his arms came around to hold me close, his chin against my shoulder. We stared down. First photo? It was of nothing, really, of land. Pretty land. A large cleared area, a flat spot on top of a grassy hill, reminding me quite a bit of Rohan. Except that this place was surrounded by bushland and the hill was fairly small. In the background were mountains, I noticed, so it had to be pretty high up. The photo itself was old. Very old. Restored, it seemed, re-printed, but even then I could tell the original must have been taken a long time ago.

"This is the land." Legolas slid his hand over to touch the photo. "We bought it while this land was still young."

"You didn't kick off the indigenous Aussies, did you?"

"It was after that, so no. It was closer to the start of the Federation."

Oh _bloody hell_. Legolas had been in Australia when it'd become an independent country. THAT sort of brought this whole 'I waited' thing home. It explained why the photo was so dated, so old, so faded. But this was a distraction. I turned the page again, slowly, the stiff cardboard easily sliding past, and saw _him_.

Not Legolas. But he could have been. Light hair, like his father, in the black and white photo and a face that was probably closer to the 'Orlando Bloom' version of Legolas than Legolas actually was. Big grin. Standing on top of a heavy stone block, a giant sign in his arms, with a massive grin. And in the background were pyramids. I stared, my eyesight kind of going blurry, as my mind slowly caught up to what exactly I was seeing. It was my son, my baby, who was still growing inside of me... but now was also in a photo. He looked familiar somehow. I was too emotional to care why.

The next one was further away, my baby still on top of that stone block, but he was tiny now. And I could see exactly what it was he was standing on top of. He was standing on the top of a pyramid and holding up a 'Hello Mum' sign. It must have been so long ago, because I was pretty sure no one was allowed to do that any more...

"That's him." I said quietly. I wanted to cry suddenly. Oh good god, he had my sense of humour too. "On a pyramid. Seriously? He climbed a … a _pyramid_?"

"And none other than the Great Pyramid itself. He wanted the first photo to be special." Legolas chuckled softly, an exhale of air, the tense hunger vanishing. "He has gone many places to collect presents for you. More than I have. I was content to rest and wait. Not him. He has not stopped moving and yet somehow does not seem to feel the weight of time as I have."

"He didn't get me a mummy, did he?" That thought scared me big time... I remembered hearing about early English explorers to Egypt who'd collect mummies to burn or something. Like it was funny to take a dead body and play with it.

"No. But he did find you something special. When you meet him he will not hesitate a second to pile his gifts on you. You may not have met your son yet but … he has known you for a very long time. The house is our first gift."

I noticed, with amusement, that our baby ...well, man... had the same braid as Legolas. "He's got your hair."

"He has your warm shade though." Legolas reached up to stroke my hair, slowly, kissing my shoulder. "Keep looking."

As I looked I felt some sadness. I'd missed so much of his life. This man, my son as I had to keep reminding myself, had clearly already … had so much happen. I hadn't even seen my own baby yet. And here he was- my baby- already having grown up.

"I missed everything."

"You have not yet begun, my love, he still grows." Legolas slid his hands around my waist, fingers slipping under the pants to rest against my stomach, a soft exhale of contentment as he found the little lump . "He grows and will not forget a second with you, for he will come and go from this world and the last beside you, the two of you remaining close until the last moment it is time for him to go onwards."

"I have to give him up to the Elves when he's..."

"Twenty one. That is the age of maturity in your world, isn't it?"

It was. Big parties around it, people could drink in America, and on one hand I felt like twenty one years... was still a very long time. But it suddenly didn't feel like enough.

"Then when you return here, he will be here as a grown man."

"I know. But all that time in-between..."

"And most of it was spent so that he could tell you stories, tell you what he saw, what he did, who he met, for this world is his." Legolas squeezed me gently. "It is not easy to keep him away now. He has so much he wants to tell you. But he must wait."

"So do I..."

"Do not forget. He is here." Legolas pressed against my stomach, fingers digging in, kissing the back of my shoulder. "He grows larger, his mind is being created, and he is getting ready to come into the world. Focus on _your_ future and not _his_ past."

I tried. I turned the pages and started to see the beginnings of this house, as trees were cut down, photos of Legolas and my son alike talking to each tree beforehand. Not just cut down. Some grew, as I'd noticed Elves liked to do, grew to form the walls for the walls. Stones carved and placed, slowly, brick by brick. As the house slowly rose up, the photos grew younger, and yet almost nothing changed with Legolas. In every photo he was dressed the same, wore his hair the same, and as the time went on, he seemed to 'wake up'. There was no better way to describe it. My son, on the other hand, always seemed to be dressed to match the times.

The home itself was amazing, strange, probably perfect given where we were in life. One half of it looked organic, wooden, and yet somehow it merged into a stone half easily and naturally. Stone was carved, wood carved, this Elvish building that could have easily been a modern one at the same time, with plates of glass and even a chimney. I even saw a pool. A modern pool. A shed out the back. The building rose up into a second story and, to my amusement, there was a kind of ...ladder... going from a balcony up into the tree tops.

"Tree house?"

"There are some things I cannot give up." Legolas responded. "There is an underground room as well."

"Like Mirkwood?"

"Crafted as the hall once was. I-" He sighed, a long deep sigh, and shut his eyes. "I miss it greatly. As do we all. There are new cities now."

"I'm sorry."

"No, do not be. Many an Elf has waited and crafted new homes. I miss the land of my birth, the forest of my childhood, but there are new forests to enjoy now." Legolas squeezed me. He turned the page. "And a new home. We may be there tonight, move in tomorrow morning, if you desire."

"Move out of Brian's shed? Yes!" The response was instinct. Of course I wanted to get the hell out. "Boromir's coming."

"Of course. I have a shed to put him in." Legolas actually laughed when I elbowed him. He kissed the back of my neck, murmuring, "I tease, my love."

I stared out, closing the photo album, staring into the city. Modern times. Modern times that meant helicopters, as one passed over, "All the magic has vanished. I can't believe this is … the future."

"It has not vanished. It has hidden. One day it will return." Legolas responded. He shifted around to kneel in front of me. "I will take you to them. To our people. But not today. It would be a journey that would take many weeks. They are not easily reached, not even by their own kind, and I would not dare risk it while you are pregnant."

Legolas was gathering things as he spoke and I sighed. Okay.

"Date over?"

"Boromir will be home."

That brought me back to reality. The soft fuzzy warm date thing, picnic, whatever it was, had faded away. I felt my heart sink as I watched Legolas slowly gather up everything he'd brought, breathing out, aware this was it.

"I still love him."

"But not for the right reasons." Legolas said quietly. "I do not doubt that you care for him. But-"

"I know, I know." I flopped back down on the blanket and shut my eyes. "So what happens? I tell him and... when do we go back? I don't think he'll want to share the shed with me." And he'd probably be furious. Or heartbroken. Or both. I couldn't say I blamed him.

"He can return straight away. His wounds need only time now." Legolas responded. He bent down to take my hands and slowly eased me onto my good leg, holding out the crutches, and when I was upright and steady he bent down to pick up the blanket and fold it. "You will need longer."

"Because of my rehab?" I muttered. First appointment was in a few days.

"Because I've missed you." Legolas turned to me. "And I owe you many nights where I stay beside you."

"Yeah, you do, and that starts..." I wasn't sure when. I didn't just want to throw Boromir back into Minas Tirith like that. "...well. Soon. He'll be back at the same time we left?"

"And you will also return at the same time." Legolas slid the bags over his shoulder and carefully started down the hill, eyes coming back to me, guiding me down the grass. "Even if you were gone a month."

"He'll know by how pregnant I look."

"I will not understand." Legolas muttered. "I mean, I did not know. That would be difficult for you too."

Oh yeah. Younger Legolas. I'd left him behind in Minas Tirith when he'd expected to come. "Will you be angry?"

"A little." He admitted and he didn't meet my eyes now. "Do not ask me more of your future. Just trust that all will be well. I will not tell you what to do."

He didn't have to. The less people TOLD me or PUSHED me … even if I NEVER saw Legolas in all twenty years from now, between visits here, I knew what … what I had to do. And it sickened me.

"Except for Boromir."

Legolas sighed heavily. "His fate is not yours either. He will be fine, however little likely it will seem, however long it takes, and you must trust that."

Must trust? I didn't. I felt sicker the more I thought about it.

"I am not telling you to … choose." Legolas said quietly. He turned around, dropping the bags, hands on my arms. "This is why I could not face you in Minas Tirith. Because I could not be sure that I wouldn't beg. I would only trust your choice."

"But you already know what I'll do."

"It is your future, not mine." Legolas responded. His eyes were away now. "The choice can still be made either way. I know what I would ask. I would ask that you love me now, and then as well, and let Boromir's fate go now."

Let it go.

Those three words hung in my mind as we waited for a taxi and headed back. Was he right? Had that been what I'd been doing- trying to force Boromir's fate? Maybe I had. I wanted him to be happy. I needed him to be happy, in fact, because I felt kind of responsible... but also, I cared about him so damn much.

"You said he'd have children."

"He may have. There are many fates. But they wouldn't be yours." Legolas responded softly. "We know that much."

"So he can't marry me if he has..."

"Don't ask anymore, please."

Could they? Would he cheat on me? I didn't see that happening. But then, how would Boromir feel if I would spend a month or two each year caught up and revolving around Legolas. His immanent arrival, his presence, his departure... would he be lonely enough seek comfort? I'd let him. And that kind of sunk the whole thing in. If I'd let the man cheat on me then I couldn't care for him in that way. If Legolas tried... I'd be devastated. But the idea of Boromir finding comfort with another woman …

My goal was to make him happy. It wasn't to be his lover or his partner. It was to make him proud, to get is approval, to have him around all the time, and to feel like I was supported by him. His happiness made me so damn happy, but when he was upset, I always felt like it was my fault.

It was sick. The more I realised it, the more I thought about how much I wanted to make him happy, the less I felt like this was okay.

Oh god.

Legolas had said it. He'd said 'You want him for another reason' or something like that. Boromir was protective, he was supportive, he cared for me unconditionally, but at the same time... he always thought he knew best for me. And he didn't bother hiding the times when he wanted to decide for me. Like with the marriage.

Basically, he was everything my father should have been but never was.

And Brian was exactly the same thing. Had been. I'd needed a protector, a father, someone to keep me safe, and I would have done anything to make them happy. And they'd become the same way my father had- Brian had become abusive. Boromir had more or less made me sleep with him. Not that it was rape, I knew that if I'd said 'no' he would have backed off, but … he hadn't really given me much chance to say no and I'd really wanted to make someone happy. He'd gotten what he wanted and I'd made someone happy. And that night … all I'd wanted was Brian.

Boromir was a lot like Brian, in ways, and in other ways he was nicer. Better.

That wasn't love. That was really messed up.

I felt _sick_.

My reaction, my physical and emotional reaction, it said more than anything ever could. I knew. I knew what I was going to do as clearly as if I could see my own future. Or see Legolas' past. It was so clear suddenly, from the way he reacted around me, the intensity, and ...the sadness.

"I still love him."

"I know." Legolas twisted towards me in the back of the cab. His voice softened. "You have realised, haven't you?"

"I feel sick." I muttered. Gross. What was wrong with me? The sex suddenly seemed so … urgh. "And we-"

"He is not your father. But I have met your father. We always seek that which was missing from our lives. Gimli had a role in my heart that took the place of a brother. Boromir is, and always will be, one of the friends closest to your heart." Legolas slid his arm around my shoulder, slow, leaning against me. "And he is like an older brother."

"But we..."

"It is not the same." Legolas responded quickly, not letting me finish, squeezing my shoulders. "You do not need to feel shame for it. You and he needed one another as lovers, and I … I feel I am partly to blame for leaving you alone like that... and for a night you were lovers."

"I'm sorry."

"As I said, I should have remained, and found out why you were so distressed." Legolas didn't let go of me. He slid closer, shoving a seatbelt out of his way, voice low so that only I could hear. "But there are things we do in our past that always haunt us. This is how we grow up."

"Even you?"

"If you are worried I have taken a lover, I have not, but yes. Even I."

I shut my eyes and sat there, numb, still sick to the stomach. How hadn't I even seen this? "I'm not marrying him."

It wasn't a question this time. It was a statement, a quiet sad statement, because now that I knew I also knew that we were minutes from devastating him.

"I know." Legolas said quietly.

Another long silence. The traffic around the taxi was slow, rush-hour type slow, and after a while I realised what Legolas had said earlier.

"You met my father?"

"I would have knifed him myself, were I not satisfied he would spend his days in a cell, and yes. How could I not stay away from the man that hurt you so badly?" Something rose in his voice, stiff, an anger that he didn't seem able to control. "We both visited him. Myself and your son. He will not contact you again. If you wish to see him, it will be your choice, but never his."

"I might one day, you know..." I muttered. He was still my dad. I hated him... but he was still my dad. But it got me thinking. About them. About my son. About... the lawyer that'd put my dad away. The blonde lawyer, his hair tied back, green eyed and gorgeous. Cold though- the kind of scary beautiful man that made even my father cringe. Wearing a beautiful suit. I had been too distressed to really be there- I'd only gone once for my testimony and I'd been unable to look up so I'd only gotten a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. But... "Hang on."

"What?"

I lifted the photo album carefully out of his bag and quickly turned the pages. I stared at my son again. It was him. The lawyer. My son. The same person. It may have been years ago but I wasn't stupid. "Leggy..."

"What?" He blinked at me.

"Is our son working as a lawyer?"

"Yes." He frowned, confusion faint on his face, and a little alarm. "Why?"

"I swear I've seen him before. At my father's trial." I stared at him on the pyramid. His big grin. Hair wild in some wind I couldn't see.

Legolas frowned and muttered something in Elvish. I saw him reach for his phone, f inger it, and then glance at me. With a sigh he muttered, "I will find out. If he has then ..."

"He's gotten daddy very angry?"

"I have told him to stay _away_ from you." Legolas muttered. "But yes. He is a lawyer. Environmental, but sometimes criminal, and … it made no sense why he'd choose both. Until now." Another sharp word. I wasn't sure that one WAS Elvish. It sounded too rough.

He didn't say anything else. I didn't want him to. I sat there, so bloody confused and twisted with emotions, I didn't know what to feel. My son had ...put my dad in prison for almost all his life? Made sure I could live on my own still? Gotten all my mother's money to me? I had been too upset to really pay attention at the time- my mother had been murdered- but … wow. But then, wouldn't I have done the same thing? I would have. And now I wished I'd paid attention to him, looked at him at the trial, noticed his name, or something.

Maybe his name would be in all the paperwork I still had. Where had Brian put it? In a storage unit? I wondered if I should find his name out. If I did I'd want to find him. Call him.

This train of thought was knocked aside as we pulled up in front of Brian's house. I got out carefully, leaning on the crutches, as Legolas paid for the taxi. Then we headed inside.

It was time to tell Boromir and to send him home to his brother.

* * *

A/N - :O

Gross? Naa... but the funny thing is that we always seek out what we missed in life in some way or another. How will Boromir take this though? :O

As for the little girl- I have not forgotten her, even if Wendy has. lol She will have a part to play of her own. : D


	31. Wants vs Needs

We came home to chaos. Grenades, swearing, and popcorn rained down everywhere. The grenades, at least, were on Halo 4.

Boromir and Brian. Attacking each other with guns and swords. Boromir's face was flushed with pleasure, Brian equally as pleased with himself, their fingers flying over the Xbox buttons. The smell of something cooking filled the air, and Boromir barely glanced up as we came into the living room of Brian's house.

"Hey babe!"

That was Boromir, glancing up, face cracking in a wide grin. He held something up. "Look! We're famous." Then he dropped it, grabbing for the controller, and threw a grenade at Brian. Boromir yelled with delight as it caused an explosion. "Tis as the Orcs did it! Woman, why did you not tell me about this marvel of your world?"

The extended Lord of the Rings box sets, all three, fell to the couch as he proceeded to test all his weapons on Brian. I glanced back to Legolas, who leaned against teh door frame, a small smile on his face as he gazed in.

"We have to talk, Boromir."

"Aye, but not until tomorrow morning. Brian here tells me that our tale will keep us awake but he has a drink to assist. It is called pepsi. I have yet to taste it but I believe it is a tonic to keep us awake? Don't talk, woman, I'm learning this battle!" He growled as he died and shoved at Brian, playful, but amused. "What do I press to get back in?"

As Brian repeated the coloured buttons, Boromir focused once more, his eyes glued onto the screen.

I groaned softly. Something brushed across my lower back, Legolas moving in beside me, his soft voice saying, "Let him have his pride boosted."

He was probably right. Let Boromir's ego get nice and big before I... crushed his heart into little pieces. I sighed and felt a headache coming on. "So we're starting when?"

"First movie now that you'r-" Brian blinked and paled. "Oh shit, your appointment. I forgot. Shit, sorry, but there was something we had to do."

"Aye, the forest!" Boromir's gaze went to Brian, and for a moment I saw some weird expression cross between them, before his eyes went back to the TV. "This is not something I could have even dreamed of!"

"Don't get used to it." I muttered. "We're going home. Anyway. It's okay. I found a house. We figured it out this morning at the park." I reached into my pocket, fingering the keys, and moved in slowly to the living room. "Have you seen it, Legolas?"

"No." Legolas sat down beside me. He nudged me gently. "I have been beside you at the hospital."

Oh. Was I supposed to not tell anyone about Elves being here? I nodded, and went quiet. Okay. Yeah. If Brian knew there were Elves... hell, if anyone knew... there'd be a search. As much as I did want Boromir to see the movie I felt restless now, anxious, sure that I could feel Legolas' impatience as well. Tough.

"Okay. So first movie now." Brian had cheered up again. He moved up to switch the x-box off and to change to the DVD player, before he sniffed the air. "I think the pizzas are ready too. Great timing."

Boromir lifted him self up, heavy, using the coffee table as a prop. He flopped beside me, leaning against me, kissing the side of my head roughly. "There is so much of your world I would see."

"Probably a bit too much."

"Why rush?" He laughed, squeezing me, and before I could speak, had tugged me into his lap. Boromir nuzzled against my neck, hair ticking me, grinning. "I would see everything first."

"There's a lot of everything." I warned him. There was a lot I wanted to show him. The beach. Pyramids. Stuff like that. I'd have flown him all over the planet to show him anything he liked. Used up all mum's savings, which I still had barely touched, used up all the savings I'd earned from the Olympics, and even take him with me if I ever made it again. Where was it next time? Rio. I'd have loved to take him to Rio with me if I made it that far again. Could I still do that? I wanted to. I wanted to keep going with the competitive archery. How could I even begin to balance the two?

"Boromir, she has an injured leg."

"Do you not think I know that?" Boromir snapped, sudden, shocking me and Legolas both. He opened his eyes and gave Legolas a look that was almost dirty. "She needs not use it while she sits here. I will care for her now."

Legolas stood up, quiet, and moved outside. Boromir watched him go and when he was ogne, he sighed, and tightened his arms around me.

"He just -"

"Loves you, cares for you, I know." Boromir grumbled softly. "As you do him."

Jealousy. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the couch. The hurt in his face hurt me too.

"Truth is, woman, I have to let you go." Even as he said it, he didn't believe it, and somehow this made me angry. He couldn't even look at me. Angry and hurt, and guilty, so damn guilty, stress rising up in me once more until I was sure I was about to hyperventilate.

"What?" I stared at him. I wasn't sure what I was hearing. Boromir didn't speak again and I prodded him, "Hang on, what did you-"

"I have to let you go." Boromir muttered. "I am growing old now. I do not look it but I am twice your age and … and I am not returning to Middle Earth."

"_What_?" What the hell was he saying. I shoved his hand off my arm as he tried to stroke it. No. Whatever he was saying, I knew better, I felt it. Boromir was picking a fight. He wanted me to argue. He always did. I supposed he liked it when I did... but right now I was stressed and angry and about to rip his stupid ear off dragging him back. "Yeah, you're coming back."

"Not forever. It is now Faramir's time. If I remain in Minas Tirith his position as Steward will always be questioned. This world has many wonders and I am keen to explore until I breathe my last breath. I am not young. It could be soon."

"You're only forty." I snapped.

"Tis not as young as you think, that age, after a life of war." Boromir's voice hadn't increased in volume. He was distant now, eyes still shut, breathing in and out slowly. "No. You have many years. I have few, compared to you, and would not risk my brother's position nor your happiness. Go home with your Elf. I will remain here."

"No!" I wasn't sure why I was so upset. He was basically saying what I wanted him to say. Well, except for the 'I'll stay here' part, that shocked me so much. I wasn't even sure if that was allowed by the ...whatever. Guardians of the worlds or something. "This isn't your world."

"Brian agrees. I will sleep in the shed. I am happy there- tis not too much strange- and from there I will venture out and see the world. In exchange I will teach him and others to sword fight, to ride, he already knows a place where they would gladly have a good rider teach."

"Boromir!"

"You will not be here. You will not be tormented by me." He sighed, quiet, and opened his eyes to meet mine. Boromir leaned up to kiss me, gentle, hand stroking the side of my face. "You will have your love and I will have my excitement. I could not ask you to stay from Legolas."

"You already did." This was crazy. I tried to peel myself off his lap, somehow devastated, because … because what? Because I was supposed to be breaking up with him?

"I told you. I love you. I love you, be you with me, or with the Elf, here, or in Minas Tirith, or some strange Elven city." Boromir was smiling, or attempting to, his smile sad. "But I cannot ask you to change your life for me. To leave the father of your child. There is little I am worth, compared to him, and I know it. I am only a few good years. He will be beside you until you are old, until you breathe your last, and I cannot do that."

The urge to smack him with my crutch came and went. It wasn't going to help. I just stared at him, blank, confused and unsure. Because it wasn't true. He was worth so damn much and … I didn't see how he couldn't see that. And I didn't know if I'd forgive myself for it.

I didn't get time to speak again. Brian returned with pizza, Legolas carrying in plates, and they started the Fellowship of the Ring.

I sat between Legolas and Boromir, unable to touch either, once again conflicted. If I'd made the right choice, how come I always felt like this when I'd made it? What was wrong with it? With _me_? And suddenly I was way too claustrophobic to stay there. I got up, awkward, and muttered something about needing the bathroom.

I stood in the bathroom, breathing in and out slowly, and slid the top up to stare at my stomach. I breathed in and out slowly, tracing my fingers over it, once again trying to focus. Here was my centre of calm. I ran my fingers over the tiny bump, breathing in and out slowly, shutting my eyes.

Baby. Happening. A real baby. Okay. Yes.

"You must be a miracle if you've survived all of this." I muttered to it, aware Legolas could probably hear me, and gazed at the bump in the mirror again. I could have stood here for ages staring at it. It was only now, only literally this morning, that I really saw what was happening. 'Pregnant' hadn't really meant much till now. I'd barely been sick. Tired, yeah, but not sick. And tired could have easily been related to that other problem.

Then again, I realised, the hormones may have also not been helping. Huh. Great. Was I supposed to wait till I wasn't pregnant any more?

Nope.

I sighed and went back out, crutches digging into arms as I stood there, everything inside my body repulsed by the idea of sitting between those two hormone trigger men again. Even Brian bothered me. Where was the women? Where was HIS woman? Jess? Barely had seen the dark haired woman - she worked as a nurse or something.

Instead I found the armchair and sat there, yawning, relaxing into the chair.

By now, Frodo was running away from the big scary ...riders. I yawned again, kind of tired out already, and relaxed down. Brian had turned on the rotating floor fan again. Sitting there, I relaxed, and started to fall asleep.

When I woke, the room was empty, the sounds of Boromir and Brian somewhere in the distance. Legolas knelt in front of me, hair loose, tender as he reached up to cup my face and brush hair free of it.

"You slept through the first half."

"Sorry."

"It was ...interesting. To see a pretty version of myself." He smiled, a mixture of open embarrassment and amusement, shifting closer to kneel between my legs, Legolas leaning up to kiss my forehead gently. "Was there dreams?"

"No." I replied, yawning, realising my hand had been over my stomach the entire time under the top. I slid it free and stretched slowly. How strange that Legolas would see Orlando Bloom as a 'pretty version'. Yes, Legolas was slightly … less feminine at times... but not much. He was just a little different. Jaw was slightly squarer, eyebrows that natural blonde, even his eyelashes a natural blonde. Hair a little different. "I just slept."

"Good." He brushed his thumb over my cheek, sliding his arms around my waist, hugging me against his chest. I felt his heart beat, slow and calm, smelt the sleepiness on him, his soft hair tickling me.

I wanted to tell him to carry me off. The urge rose. Just … carry me off. I'd give birth in hiding. Come back and deal with Boromir after.

"Boromir needed a moment alone after he saw himself." Legolas continued. "We need a moment to ready ourselves for the next half. Brian was going to the shop. He thought you might want some things to take to Middle Earth." Legolas stood up slowly.

Now that he mentioned it... I did. Soap. Lots of it. If I could take clothing here then I could probably take a bag … or three... back, and it might have been smart to make sure I had baby things there. Or something. Books. A portable solar powered camping shower. Oh... that'd be heaven. Oranges. An entire suitcase of oranges. I didn't know.

"Isn't it a bit late?" I muttered. It was getting close to six. And it was such a sudden request. I was suddenly suspicious about this...

"It's summer so most shops are open till nine. Kmart is open till midnight." Brian answered, as he came in, holding up keys. "Come on."

"Oh." How weird that he knew what Kmart was... but I nodded, standing with his help, and stretched.

"Okay." I wasn't sure what the rush was. I was, however, in agreement. Shopping? Sure. I could go for some of that right now. I was more interested, honestly, in getting the hell away from Legolas and Boromir for a while. A long while.

We headed out to the car, Brian glancing inside a moment, before he thrust a handful of papers in my direction. "Here. Catalogues and a pen."

"Oh. Um." I muttered. "Thanks."

"Just mark whatever you need while I drive." Brian twisted the key in the spot, backing up carefully, glancing back. "We can talk in a sec."

Talk? I wasn't sure what he meant by that. But as he carefully backed up and started down the little street, I took out the pen and started to go over the catalogues, muttering, "Shouldn't I just... go inside and check?"

"Can't hurt to have a list."

I supposed he was right there. This was still such a sudden idea though that it took me ten minutes to really get into it. One shop had camping gear, something called Aussie disposals, and … I pictured it. Dropping back into Boromir's room, arm full of all these things, leaning on crutches, like nothing had happened. I had to be careful what I took back. If that place really was the past then I had to make sure nothing survived. The last thing we needed to do was to leave all these weird objects for archaeologists to find. I'd heard plastic didn't really break down so that was out. Anything with plastic had to be rejected. Metal could be melted down later... and it probably would... the metals around here were probably like gold back then.

"I don't know." I muttered. Camping shower. Okay. Yeah- that was a must. The plastic... could come back with me. It was little. I'd roll it up when I came back. I circled it twice, just to make sure I got it, and twisted the pages. Did I need a tent? Probably not. If anything Middle Earth had better tents than these ones- Rohan's tents had been amazing.

I had to change it. Started circling candies, chocolates, food, because the idea of mixing the two worlds was still doing my head in big time. I still couldn't … quite understand. How Middle Earth could become this. I didn't doubt that Legolas had waited... I just wasn't sure how that worked.

Brian relaxed when we reached the high way.

"All right. So, because you have trouble walking, I was thinking I'd do what you needed. We can go to an ATM after and you can pay me back."

"Oh, okay." I stared at him. Why did I have the feeling he'd driven out of Legolas' hearing range to tell me this? Suspicion rose further. "What's going on?"

"Well... nothing. Something." He shrugged, evasive, and added, "And I wanted to say sorry. You know. For being a douchebag of a boyfriend."

"I know you were." I muttered. "I … was going to break up with you anyway."

"I know. I think I was afraid of it." Brian smiled weakly. He stared at me a moment. "Plus, you've gotten … fitter. Kind of sexy now. Except I don't really care. It's weird. When I realised you were cheating on me I realised … well, it's like I never loved you. I just wanted to protect you."

That should have hurt. I was kind of relieved, actually, as he returned his attention to the road with a quick, "Um. Sorry. That sounded harsher than I meant..."

"No, it's okay. I'm kind of glad." I admitted.

"I wouldn't do it any other way, you know, I would have … protected you from your father. Even if we hadn't dated." Brian added, "Actually it's kind of thanks to you that I realised what I wanted to do. Help homeless kids and abused kids."

Shame we had, sort of, but I didn't say it. I just nodded and tried to focus on the catalogues away from the awkward conversation. It had been a relief to find him dating someone else, not talking about our relationship, and here he was. Talking about it.

"Guess I'm saying thanks." He muttered.

I wasn't sure what to say. I smiled weakly and went back to work.

We found the shopping centre like he said- packed of people. It was a warm day and the place was air conditioned, so apparently that meant everyone had come for shopping, movies and food. I moved through the crowd quietly, finding it so strange, how most people seemed to be more focused on their phones or something. It made me miss Minas Tirith in a way. Yes- that was busy too. But with people looking at each other. Talking. Interacting.

Hell, I even missed the Elves.

"I'll meet you in the food court." Brian informed me. He smiled, nervous for some reason, as he took the wad of papers from me. "Won't be long. Have fun."

"Um. Okay." I stared at him as he hurried off.

It was as I was hobbling past the food court that someone called me. Not Kimberly. It was another name that … shouldn't have been known here.

"Wenduin!"

I spun around to stare in the direction of the voice. With disbelief I saw someone coming through the crowd at me, followed closely by an old woman, his blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail, wearing a good light grey suit, waving at me.

My son. Racing right for me.

"Hang on..." I held up my hands, warding him off, and grasped at my stomach. "This is..."

"Relax, mum, I used to play with myself all the time. Father doesn't know- it hasn't happened yet. But I do. It doesn't change anything for me. I don't think fate's a circle. Mini-me will have his own path. Besides, I need to talk to you." He spoke quickly, as if he was afraid I'd argue, which I was getting close to trying to do. My son reached out to grasp me. I flinched as his hands touched my arms, waited for … a miscarriage or something.

Nothing. The world didn't explode. I didn't suddenly loose the baby.

The man, my son, just waited patiently. The old woman with him moved away towards one of the jewellery shops, barely even looking at me, a slow crouched walk with a walking stick.

"You're sure this is fine?"

He took my arm again, more gentle this time, and nodded. "Yeah, mum. I checked with Lady Galadriel. She's still alive, you know, sort of. Don't worry. When I was eight my older self tried to tell me lottery numbers but it didn't work. Something about free will."

I let him lead me towards a table in the food court. It was the strangest feeling- this stranger, who was supposed to be my son, talking to me and looking at me like I was an _old friend_. I sat down, numb, and watched as he ordered drinks. Orange sorbet and green apple sorbet drinks. My son returned to sit in front of me, sliding the orange one across, and even as he grinned, I saw something in him that reminded me of my own mother. Maybe it was the smile, or the mischief in his face, like he knew he was doing something wrong and loved it. Mum used to get that face when I was young, when she'd buy me a lolly, or grate carrots into Dad's spaghetti sauce when he claimed he hated carrots.

"I'm Cere." He offered as he sipped his drink. "Sorry. I know this is weird."

"Cere?" Not as weird as all the langauge he was using. Modern langauge. Australian accent. Looked only thirty- still older than me but far too young.

"Well. My full name is Cerediramarth." He grinned at my bewildered face. "I only have a few minutes or I'd spend an hour trying to tell you how to say it. I don't think you ever really got used to that name. You called me Cere. I go by the name Mark usually. But I like your name for me. Cere."

"What does it mean?"

" Cerediramarth? Fate maker. I was born with it- all Elf children are born with a name. You had another human name for me that … you'll decide on. Bet it'll be the same as my current one. Anyway. I don't know how long we've got." Cere gazed around. "Father has a habit of discovering my plots before I wish him to. You have the right to understand what is going on. What Uncle Boromir isn't telling you or father. Ask questions once I tell you so we get this out of the way."

"Wait, what?" I stared at him. "Tell me _what_?"

"Okay. First- I'm not telling you to take sides." Cere's jaw tightened and for a moment he reminded me of Legolas, somehow, this trace of anger that made him suddenly look a bit older again. "Just to give you a balanced perspective. Figure … you shouldn't have to suffer like mum... I mean, like … the version did that raised me."

Again he stared at me, affectionate, which was so strange. "So you should know what's going on. When you took Boromir into the hospital there were tests done, standard stuff, and they found a lot of stuff. You know that." Cere nodded at my drink. "Come on. Drink. I'll talk quick and get out of here. You never know when that Elf shows up ready to sink an arrow into your behind."

I drank, slowly, and he started to talk again. Somehow I felt nervous. I wasn't sure why. It was like I could already feel it. Some kind of dread. Cere drank, slowly, time dragging out.

"They found cancer."

I nearly choked. Nearly. I stared at him, dropping the drink, "_What_!"

"Yeah. Cancer in the brain. It's removable by surgery, which is where Brian and Boromir were-" Cere nodded past me to where Brian had vanished, who nodded back, though he went back to keeping watch. "-but it's not going to last long. The treatment. He'll die."

Numbness filled me. Heavy numbness. It was like I went into shock, the world grew quiet around us, and it was just myself and my son. Cere.

"Are you sure? How do you even know this?"

"Your friend Brian. I got in touch with him when you vanished. Told him what was going on. He didn't believe me at first." Cere responded. "Does now. So he's been keeping me up to date with everything going on in the house. Father won't- he's still stubborn about fate and so on. Boromir doesn't have long. Four years. He'll die in around four years. It would happen with or without you being with him." Cere's smile had slipped away. He lowered his drink. "Father knew. Boromir knew. But you never did. Not until he died."

"I... what do you mean? Legolas knew?"

"Everyone did. Even I did." Cere frowned. "They thought it was the best thing. I was too little to have a say but I've grown up wishing I'd tried."

It didn't seem real. What he was saying didn't seem real. "He's dying?"

He nodded.

"And he knows?"

"He does. He's known for a while already. It was affecting his behavior. You probably noticed- impulse control problems. Boromir had been wondering if he'd been going mad." Cere sighed. "Not sure if it helps or not for him to know."

I stared at him, cold rushing through me, already feeling grief. He was dying. Boromir was dying. He knew it. And it made so much sense. It explained what he'd said on the couch. I was abandoning Boromir when he was dying. I felt cold, angry, and … furious. With everything. It did make sense. Normally he was fine. Sometimes though he seemed to have problems.

Neither of us spoke for a long time. Cere didn't seem able to look at me now. He drank slowly and moved his empty cup aside.

"You didn't take it well."

"I stayed with Legolas?"

"Until Boromir died. Yes." Cere lowered his voice. "You wouldn't have stayed with him if you didn't know about this, would you?" He asked, softer, and for a moment his frown did remind me of Legolas. "I didn't know if you'd want to or not. I just thought you deserved to know too. Shit."

"Don't swear."

"Because I'm your child or because I'm an Elf?" The frown faded as he teased me- my son who was twice my age in appearance. But he nodded. "Habit. It's easy to get into with work. And I grew up here in this time."

"As a lawyer? You're a lawyer?" This was so much easier than what he was telling me. I couldn't believe it. Couldn't understand what I was hearing. Boromir was dying and I'd … I felt selfish.

"I started out as an activist." Cere said, almost defensively, shifting on his seat. "In the sixties and seventies. But it didn't get me anywhere. They all got dumb on drugs and nothing happened. So I decided I'd do it properly and studied law. Environment, conservation, that kind of thing. Father thought I was crazy but it worked. Then he told me about my grandfather. I went straight back to University to study criminal law, just to get the bastard in there as long as possible. I won't tell you the full story, I'm saving it for when I can actually spend hours with you, but that's it."

"He's still your grandfather."

"Don't remind me."

"So... you just ...waited with Legolas?"

"Not all the time and ...it doesn't work like that." He shook his head. "It's not really past and future stuff. Middle Earth's ...like an alternative place. I don't know how to describe it. But the Elves came to this world while a lot of it was vastly untouched. Founded a home that men hadn't found yet. Didn't father tell you anything?"

"Yeah, he said stuff about Atlantis and Lemsomething..." I wasn't really focused on it. My mind was on Legolas and Boromir.

"Well, I'll explain it better when we've got time." Cere sat up straighter. I saw him nod to that elderly woman once more, sighing, adding, "Which we don't have."

It was bizarre how un-Elflike he was. Funny, in a way, but he seemed so modern and headstrong. I stared at him. "How much time did you spend here?"

"In the present? Half of it. Lord Elrond almost seemed to regret he'd suggested it." Cere grinned again. "I think he thought my time here, time in Minas Tirith and time with the dwarves altered my Elf blood too much. They still don't know how to handle me. Anyway- that's all being saved for later. If I started on my story you'd be here for weeks. I'm only here to make sure you know the truth."

Okay. That explained it. TV, computers, and me. Cere must have bothered the Elves for thousands of years with his attitude.

I sat there numbly, trying to drink, and he waited patiently.

"Why... would you even tell me this?" I finally asked. Quiet. "You know … you know how I'll feel about Legolas now."

"Because I don't want to see it happen again." Cere responded. He fiddled with his cup. "Because I think Boromir could survive if he stayed here. Because I know you might never forgive father now but the younger Legolas didn't have time to think about it so he didn't do it. And other reasons. It doesn't matter. He's still sick."

"You're sure?" I asked quietly.

"I am. Ask Brian if you want." Cere said quietly. "They had the pre-surgery appointment this morning. Hey, mum..." Cere hesitated. He grasped my hand, gentle, and said, "Don't be angry with father. He was trying to do the best."

"Yeah, well, he's still in deep shit. He lied to me." I muttered. "I mean, poo. Whatever. Hiding this..."

Shit. What had Legolas done? Lied to me? Not exactly but … even now, he hid thing from me.

"Yeah. I know. I saw the aftermath of what he did." His voice went dry. "And he deserved every thousand years since regretting lying to you. But I'm not going to go through that again or let you two do it. So you've heard the truth and you can … talk to them. Before Boromir's gone and it's too late. Boromir will die, mum, and Lady Galadriel confirmed it'd happen at the same time with or without you." Cere wasn't joking now. "Dad was afraid after that the grief would kill you. He was afraid to leave you alone for a moment. Always looking out for sickness. Elves don't cope the same way. Grief will kill them or leave them mad with it. And you were angry with him... so neither of you really got back together."

"Never?"

"No. When Boromir died, you couldn't handle even seeing him, and … I don't think you ever forgave him." Cere frowned. "I'm angry with him too, I like Uncle Boromir, but … but if I changed one thing, it'd be that. No. It is going to be this. I don't care who you choose to stay with, not really, but I don't want you to spend all your life in regret either."

"We'll see." I muttered. Some part of me wanted to kick him out of my life now. But on the same token...

"Just think about it. Dad waited for you. You don't know how hard it was for him to do that when Gimli was gone. Most of the time he just slept. Days, weeks, years, just slept." Cere glanced to where Boromir sat. "You found out about Boromir's cancer after he died. So I'm changing it, like you did with his first death, because it was stupid. You never forgave Dad for that. I think you thought you could have made him happy. Now... I think if you make him stay, if he stays with the treatment, he'll have a better time. Maybe even be happy if he stays here."

"Was he?"

"Happy? No. He drank a lot. He was drunk a lot as I remember." Cere admitted. "A few women claimed he'd fathered their children but I don't know. Uncle Faramir seemed to believe he didn't have the energy. He wasn't that happy. He worked until he didn't have energy and then we barely saw him. It changed his mind too. He got angry a lot more. Lost his temper. Lost control of his actions. I think he somehow convinced you to take him with you to here, because he was trying to do chemo with Brian's help, but … it didn't help. Anyway. I'm looking forward to seeing him again. Seeing him happy."

Something crossed his face, vauge, even affectionate, but it vanished quickly. Cere looked past me to where Brian had vanished.

"You can't come home?"

"Father will be furious with me for at least two hundred years." Cere joked. "Not yet. I will though. We can talk on the phone, if you want, and I'll come see you when you've given birth. It's probably weird for you."

It was. I had to admit that.

"I'll go tell Brian what you'll need. Anyway. I liked Boromir. Speak to you soon, Mum, you'll know what to do." And like that, he wandered into Kmart, and left me out in the foodcourt.

Boromir was dying. Even now. Cancer. This was why he'd decided to give up on me.

But then... had he?

He knew me. He knew that when I said no, it was his turn to say yes, and when he said no, it was my turn to say yes. I felt like it was more than that. That it was almost a plea... 'Stay with me, even though I'm telling you not to, don't leave me.'

And somehow this made me furious. Reverse psychology.

But I was angry with Legolas too.

Suddenly, I wanted to get rid of both of them for a few months, and just be alone. I sat there, watching my orange sorbet melt, breathing in and out in shallow pants. This entire thing was a stress overload. They all needed to be hit over the head.

Or something.

I got up after a while and got a burger while I waited. Brian took a long time and when he came out, he was alone, with Cere long gone. He smiled weakly.

"Sorry, I wanted to warn you, but he said you'd probably run. Everything all right?"

"Yeah."

"Nice man." He commented. When I didn't respond Brian shrugged. "Got all your stuff. Let's head home.'

He stuffed bags into the car while I sat there.

Okay. Wow.

My head span with it all. The sudden burst of heavy rain outside barely got my attention, or Brian getting into the car soaking wet, I just stared at the water running down the car window. Couldn't I just … go home? To the Legolas I knew?

Because, as happy as I was to have met 'Cere', he was a stranger. The older Legolas had what, thousands of years worth of strangeness, and I was already trying to wrap my head around his first five hundred or so years.

And according to Cere, who made me wonder if he'd been named after Cerebrian who'd brought me there in the first place, Boromir was dying.

I turned to Brian who tapped his hands to some song on the radio, the rain heavier now, and asked the question I didn't want answered. "Is he dying?"

Brian frowned. He actually pulled over on the edge of the highway before he turned to me. "Shit. Sorr.y Yeah. I was with him while the scans were done. It was lucky you brought him... they'll cut it out, he'll get some more time. The doc seemed to think there was a chance if Boromir had intensive care for a few years." And like that he'd gotten some scans out of the back seat.

I sighed heavily and rubbed my head. Looked at the scans, the information Boromir needed for his surgery, clearly going under a false name. I wasn't sure how they'd managed that- but I suspected that if the Elves existed in this world they probably would have to know all about how to fake this shit. Brian held a phone underneath the scan and I stared at it. It wasn't that big. Pretty innocent looking.

"Cere said he'd die." I muttered. "And that you two have met."

"He showed up the day you vanished." Brian muttered. "I knew something was strange about him. Kept going on about Elves as if they were real. Which they are. Anyway. He's been hanging around ever since. I can't tell anyone when we're at home because I don't know how good Legolas' hearing is. Shit. I'll never get used to this, you know."

"Wait till we take them to a con." I muttered. "It'll be there turn."

Brian laughed and pulled out again.

Just as we were pulling in, I grabbed Brian's arm, and told him, "Get Boromir. Think there's a cafe open?" It had gotten dark by now.

"At Maccas, yeah. You want to talk to him?"

I knew Legolas would be hearing me by now. But he also knew I intended on talking to Boromir. Ego aside. I had to talk to him now. Before the second half of that stupid movie. "Yeah. Right now. Be quick."

"Like abandaid." He nodded. "I'll get Legolas to put away the cold stuff."

Cold stuff? Oh yeah. I'd marked a lot of icecream for Brian to buy. I guessed he'd bought all the junk food I'd marked. Woops. Brian vanished with plastic bags and cloth bags into the house, Boromir appearing at the door, and like a good man he wandered out barely seconds later to sit in the back seat.

"We going for food?" He asked, lightly, leaning back in the back seat.

I slid the scans into the space beside my leg, turning to him, and Boromir frowned. "No?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we can go eat, I'm hungry." I muttered. "Then we'll bring food back and eat during the film."

"Sounds like a plan! Your Elf is meditating. I do not know what it is but it bored me." Boromir grinned. "So let us go find food until he is done."

I didn't answer.

Brian returned, rushing through the rain, climbing in. "Legolas has agreed to put the things away."

"Good." I muttered. "Let's go."

Boromir, behind me, actually pulled a blanket over his head as Brian started the car again. He sounded cheerful though when he called, "Tis not so bad! This way I can enjoy it."

I still didn't answer and I felt a hand slide through the middle of the car to find my arm, pulling my hand back, grasping it. Still didn't talk to him. I just sat there, quiet, Cere's words dancing through my head. Dying. Dying.

The second we sat down with food, mostly involving decaf coffee and chips, and Brian vanished, Boromir stopped his big grin. It was like he just switched it off. Maybe he'd been pretending.

"What's the matter?" He shoved his food aside, barely interested in the massive burger I'd bought him, and crossed his arms.

"Your cancer."

Boromir's face fell. He stared down, guilt crossing his face, but not shock or confusion. No. He knew about it. Cere was right. "Did Brian tell you?"

"Not exactly. A little bird did." Or, really, a six foot something bird. I shoved a chip into icecream, staring down, adding, "And that you're going to have more surgery."

"I will fight it. They will cut it out." He tried to smile. "There is still hope."

No. There wasn't. I glanced up to see Boromir's smile slip right off his stupid lips and he glanced away, unable to meet my eyes, his lying as obvious as if he'd had a big 'LYING RIGHT NOW' sign hanging over his head. He doubted he'd survive too.

"There isn't, is there?" I said quietly.

"The healers have told me... it is unlikely. That I live long. That their treatment will give me more time." Boromir's smile slid away. "There is a few years of life remaining and I would gladly make them a few more again."

"Is this why you think I should stay with Legolas?"

"Yes."

"It's not his choice or yours. It's mine." And screw Legolas. I knew it. I would rather spend four years with Boromir than none. Legolas was something special. I'd never find another like that. But if I stayed with him, I'd never forgive myself, led alone him. What had Arwen said? Boromir was a gift.

Four years.

But I knew what I wanted. Even if I spent those four years with Boromir, I knew I'd be caught up in Legolas, and it'd just make him unhappier. He'd be dying and I' d be raising another person's son. He'd be dying and I'd be pretending I wasn't looking or waiting for Legolas when I was.

He'd be dying and I'd feel like I was once again responsible for his happiness and his fate.

Legolas was right, even if I was furious with him for lying to me, because I wasn't in charge of Boromir's fate.

"I'm not going to marry you."

Boromir's face fell, crumpling, and he leaned heavier on the table in front of me. Yeah. He'd said those things earlier in the hope that I'd do what he told me not to. "You-"

"I'll still be around."

"You need not bother, woman. I don't want you around. And I will not do the surgery. There is no point." Boromir suddenly slammed everything, the whole table, the food, shoving it to one side, scaring the crap out of the patrons in the Maccas. He stood up and stormed out, his anger so sudden that it scared even me, Brian rushing after him.

I was up before I could think, chasing after him, my resolve vanishing. Oh shit.

"Boromir, fine!" I yelled. He froze, twisting around in the rain, "Fine. I'm staying beside you."

"I do not want your pity."

"It's not pity, idiot, it's love." I snapped. Hobbling outside, I grasped my phone out of my pocket, the warm rain soaking me as I came closer to where Boromir had frozen. I snatched my phone out, ignoring his grab, and dialed Legolas. No more of this. Legolas had asked me if I'd wait for him. This time it was his turn to answer that same question.

"Wenduin?"

"Will you wait for me? If I can't be with you for a while?" I shoved my wet hair out of my face, ignoring what the rain was probably doing to the phone, somehow desperate. Angry, upset, and desperate.

"Why?"

"Because I'm standing by him, Legolas, because that's what you do with the person you _love_." I responded, grasping for Boromir's hand, mirroring his earlier words. The urge to CRUSH his hand rose up. But I couldn't... "Because I'll be there. Till he breathes his last. Just like Boromir would be for me if he could."

And if he couldn't understand that, he didn't really know me.

"I would wait." He said quietly. Almost so quiet I didn't hear him. "Until you were old and grey. If that was what I had to do. I would wait until the ending of the world, if you find love for me before then, and linger long after."

And like that, he hung up.

But it was done. I knew it. I felt it.

"Are you sure?"

"There's nothing else I could ask for." I smiled, weakly, and tried to ignore the anger. Not exactly a happy ending. Boromir's death was going to break my heart. But I knew he'd at least die happy. I ignored the little voice in my head. His fate wasn't mine."So go do the surgery."

"Except for Legolas to be there for you when I am gone." Boromir reached out to grasp my hand. He was staring at me. "Are you sure? If he is not there-"

"Then he's not and he doesn't understand me." I responded. I sighed. "And he will be. Do you mind that he..."

"Will be there? Waiting?" Boromir shook his head, sudden, and grasped my hand tight. He pulled me back into the shelter, his anger gone, only replaced with relief and love that tore at me. There wasn't anything right about this. "I will hunt the Elf down myself and beg him to be there, on my knees, if I must. And then remind him who gave her the better love."

"Boromir."

"Tis true, I would even offer him tips on pleasing you." He grinned weakly. "Some men would have their wives never be with another man. Not I. Were Legolas not there, I would likely seek another, for I want you to be loved. So no. If Legolas were to be there, I would be relieved, for I would know you would not be alone after I die."

After he died.

Boromir's smile faltered at the words too. Something crossed his face, grief, and he shifted back somewhat. "But I will do the healing. Tomorrow afternoon. They have told me it will take place tomorrow afternoon. You will have a family. Faramir will be there, Eowyn, and your son. If Legolas is not there, I will entrust them to care for you until you are able to care for yourself."

"I'll be-"

"If you are not grief stricken I will be insulted." He tried to joke. It fell short. Boromir knew he was dying. He knew he only had a few years left. "You will have a child. Help will always be there, whether you need it or not. And when I die-"

"I don't want to talk about it. We've got ages." It felt like ages. Years. A decade. Fuck. What had I just agreed to? Even his relief didn't make this feel okay.

"We know I _will_ die, treatment or no." Boromir cut me off. He grasped my hand, stroking it gently, voice softening. "And if we discuss it now we need not bring it up again. When I die, Wendy, you are ordered to go find Legolas. This is not an order by your husband but by your Captain. I will never take that place in your heart where he is- I promised you that and will never break it. When I die, you must go to that place. If you do not promise to do this then I will _not_ marry you. Not even were you to lure me into marrying you with no clothing on."

I stared at him. The hurt, the determination, the sheer stubbornness. How come he could accept me being with Legolas after but not now? Was he afraid of dying?

"I-"

"_Yes_, Wendy, is the only answer I wait for. Or I reject your proposal. He may refuse to be a lover but all I want is for you to have a friend. Legolas will never leave your heart."

"Yes. Okay."

"Good. Then I can spend my life beside you _without_ being anxious for you." He smiled, actually relaxed, and stood up. To my shock Boromir actually shouted, literally shouted at Brian, scaring everyone again, in the cafe, "We are getting married! Brian! Let us go home to finish our story!"

He was in a great mood as he went back in to order more food. Great mood in the car. I got out of the car, mood heavy, Legolas in the living room. He didn't look at me. And with Boromir's grin, I felt sick, angry, wishing I could smash the big idiot with the frying pan.

I slumped in the chair and ate icecream as they put on the second half of the film.

He was in a great mood as the film continued, later that night, but I couldn't breathe. I had to go outside- I was exhausted suddenly. No. This wasn't right. I hobbled into the kitchen, standing there, breathing hard, so damn aware of the two of them. Out there. Listening to Moria, to Lothlorien, I was rooted to the spot in the kitchen, with a tub of chocolate icecream and a spoon. Not a tiny spoon. An icecream scoop.

Legolas lied to me about his death. Boromir wasn't going to have surgery unless I stayed with him. Blah blah blah. Protection, manipulation, and I was sick of it. I had shit to do, a baby to give birth to, I'd fricken survived being stomped on by a horse and right now my muscle was being held together with some kind of string or something while it healed, and they still were playing these games?

By the time the container of icecream was gone, my anger had riven to an all time high, and I shoved the two litre now empty container into the sink. Turned. I was angry. I was on crutches. My armpits had blisters, for crying out loud, and I wanted to eat all the oranges in the world and pee.

And stomped back into the living room.

Boromir turned towards me, grinning, pointing at himself on the screen. "Wife! Lo-"

"Shut it." I snapped, pointing the icecream scoop at Boromir, turning the DVD player off. "I'm not marrying you. Why the fuck would you threaten me with not having surgery?"

"I-"

"And you." I turned on Legolas, who stared up at me expressionless, his stupid perfect face blank. "Why the hell didn't you tell me Boromir was dying?"

Legolas blinked. "I-"

I didn't let him continue either. Oh no. I was furious. I had shit to say. "Yeah, don't bother, Elf boy. Cere told me all about what you're going to do. What you did. Whatever. And it was fucking low and maybe it's eternity on the couch for you for that. But you're a jerk. And so are you." I spat at Boromir. "Who is going to go have surgery tomorrow and if I have to drag you I will, which I hope I don't, because I'm pregnant and it's expressly forbidden to lift heavy morons."

"And you." I pointed at Brian who had gone white faced. He'd never seen me angry like this before. "Were a jerk of aboyfriend. You might be a good friend but as a boyfriend? You suck. And if I find out you treat your new girlfriend like you treat me then I'm going to cut off your balls and take them back to feed to … a dragon. The only person who's been even remotely helpful has been Cere and he was the only one who had the fantastic idea of mixing oranges with icecream-"

"You've met him?" Legolas sat up, suddenly, his eyes narrowing. Just a tiny motion- the other two didn't see it- but I did. Oh no. He was not going to get angry at my baby. He hadn't even formed ears yet.

"Course I've met him, Leggy, he's like me except with your magic Elf powers of stealth and cunning. Are you really that surprised that he found a way to talk to me?" I wanted to roll my eyes. It seemed obvious to me. I breathed out, a sharp exhale of air that felt good, and unclenched my hands. "Okay. You."

My eyes landed on Boromir and he flinched as if I'd hit him. He'd gone pale. Shrunk back into the chair.

"You're staying here till you do the chemo. I don't even want to see you in Middle Earth. Yeah, I know what the doctors told you, and I know what Cere told me-" I ignored that flash of anger in Legolas face again, "-but what he said sounded like you kept jumping from here to there, drank most of the time, and what kind of treatment plan would you be getting if you only got part time treatment and was drunk the rest of the time? So you're staying. I'll rent a place, where I'll stay half the time, and you can … be the house sitter. You are not allowed to drink yourself to death. As long as you're having treatment you're going to eat organic food, stay healthy and fit, and accept that you've got at least another forty years, maybe fifty. That's a long fucking time, Boromir, and even if you have only got four years, I don't want to hear about you wasting them with prostitutes and booze. You stay here, Faramir has no competition for his ...Captain thing... and I'm only taking you back when I'm convinced that you're happy again. Even if that takes you ten years. Twenty. Even if you're a grey old man. Because I did not save your fucking life so you could mope about what you can't have."

Not that I wasn't at fault, I knew that, but I was sick of him … ignoring me. All the time. I told him no, and he said yes. Or he did what he'd done before. Reverse psychology or something. Boromir knew that if he told me not to have something, I'd want it, the idiot knew me better sometimes than Legolas. Then he had to bring out the big guns and threaten me with his fate? Fuck that. Fuck him.

He stared at me with that same expression Brian had, that shocked 'verbal slap' expression, as if he didn't know what to do. Boromir wasn't exactly a stranger to this side of me but … at the same time, he'd just about accepted he was going to be dead in a few years.

I turned to Legolas. "And _you_."

He stared at me, not quite as shocked as the others, but he tensed as I turned my attention on him. "You are going to propose to me properly."

"What?"

"Sex isn't a marriage proposal. I don't care if we just go to town hall. And then you're going to have to accept that Boromir's apart of my life, like a frustrating brother, and … I do love him. So you have to love him too. We both have to. So when I'm not here, you have to be his friend, and you have to support him like I would. You lied to me, you were about to do it all over again, so you know what? Boromir's in your hands. Pretend he's me and make sure he does everything the doctors tell him."

"But no sex.." Boromir muttered. Legolas shot him such a dirty look that even I was surprised. He actually scowled at Boromir. Boromir just gave him that same bewildered expression he'd given me. Either it was because of the anger in Legolas' face, because they had been something like friends when Boromir had left, or it was because he'd never actually seen the Elf display any kind of negative emotion. Maybe a mixture of both.

"Come on, you two were friends."

Until Boromir had died and I'd rejected Legolas. I wondered how tens of thousands of years affected an Elf's mind and heart. Maybe this would be good for Legolas. How had his memory of Boromir warped over the thousands of years? I knew Boromir had a good heart, I knew he was a good person, and … I knew he cared about Legolas as a friend. As a brother, even. I prodded Legolas with my foot, leaning heavily on the crutches, adding, "And he's _still_ my friend. Even though he's in the dog house. Boromir, I'm really angry with you. Fuck! Why would you even threaten me with that? I need more chocolate."

"Then I will... try." Legolas didn't seem pleased. "Does this mean you will … call me?"

In other words, did this mean I'd do something to make this world move with mine? Damn right I would. How weird would it have been for time to pass in only one place? I wanted to see Boromir progress everytime I came home.

"Yes. I'll call all of you." I replied. "And come... every three months or something. Maybe every two months, spend two here, then go back. So I get a bit of every season. And maybe that way I can start the archery again." My anger hadn't faded, exactly, but I was distracted. Planning. Planning for me, mostly, and for the baby. I turned to Brian. "What do you think?"

I met Brian's eyes then, and he nodded, though he remained quiet. He was a friend too. Nothing else. But... he knew my career as well as I did.

"They missed you. Even the media did. If anything you'd be more well known now." Brian admitted. "There was a big fuss in the papers when you apparently came back to life. And your manager's been trying to get in touch but I told him you were … healing."

"So I can do it." I muttered. I sighed.

"Is this what you really want?" Boromir said, quiet, his voice finally returning.

"Yes. But I'm not going to force you." I stared at him. "From now on, you decide if you live or die, and … if you want to go home and die from alcohol and cancer you barely tried to cure, that's your choice. But you've got my offer."

"It's Legolas?"

I went quiet a moment. I didn't want to stay this out loud to him. I wanted him to read my mind, my heart, or something. But Boromir needed to hear it. Suddenly it was me who wanted to cry. "You knew that. It was always Legolas. I just … I couldn't bear to see you so unhappy. I hoped I'd make you happy. But every time I saw Legolas I …"

Boromir nodded, tearing his eyes away, suddenly swallowing hard as he crossed his arms across his chest. "You do not need to say any more. I will remain here."

"Okay." Another exhale of air, another release of whatever it was I held in my chest, and I sighed. "Okay."

"And I will... treat him as my brother." Legolas muttered, quieter, eyes down. "If you want."

"Thank you." Holy cow. The two of them. They were actually accepting this.

Why hadn't I done this weeks ago? Fuck. I flopped down suddenly, relief and exhaustion, tears flooding out as I realised it was done. Over. I didn't have to battle them anymore... or be in the middle of their battle.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm tired, you jerks, I'm just … tired." A third heavy exhale of air and my shoulders slumped, as Ir rested back, the crutches falling to rest on either side of me. "And I crave oranges. I'm pregnant. Let me eat oranges and chocolate, and maybe some icecream, and relax from now on. Orange sorbet."

"Orange sorbet and chocolate icecream?"

I nodded as Brian left the room. He probably couldn't wait to do so. Boromir sat down on the couch, almst as heavily as I had, but he didn't run. He just sat there staring into his hands. Legolas leaned against the wall.

"Good." Leaning back, I stared up at the ceiling, watching a cobweb dance backwards and forwards in the corner whenever the rotating fan turned in that direction. We'd missed Christmas... but this was as much of a present as I could get. "And I'll go back home, tell Faramir you're staying here to be healed, and-"

"Will be a very long time."

"Yep." I met Legolas gaze and added, "I won't tell you that you're here."

"You won't need to. I will probably know." Legolas moved slowly to my side. To my surprise he actually checked with Boromir, eyes going to him, and when Boromir shrugged, Legolas slid down to sit on the edge of the seat beside me.

"Just so you know..." I said, looking at Boromir now. "Cere wants to meet you. My son. I think he... I think he wants you to survive. He must have had good memories of you. So you have to meet my son, as a baby and as a man, and tell me what you think."

I did want to know what he thought. I wanted to hear everything he thought, actually, I wanted to tell Boromir about it. About how weird it had been, how strange it was to sit with your own grown up child when you were still pregnant with them, and I wished he wasn't so stupid right now. But that was my fault too. Even in my anger I knew that. I should have said that stuff weeks ago.

"I will not touch a drop of alcohol." Boromir agreed, softly, rubbing his hands. "Not even in Cerebration. I … will gladly meet him."

"He will wish to live with us." Legolas said, and laughed softly, his body suddenly slumping. "He has spoken of this. Of seeing it- the three of us sharing a house. I thought he was teasing."

"Come on, he has your magic elf genes." I muttered. "Why would he tease? He probably sees things too."

Legolas nodded, his face softening, and he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "Because he is like you, my love, and he teases as much as he talks."

"Good, then I'll like him." Boromir muttered. He finally looked up and tried to smile, tried to, but there was that sadness. I knew I'd been responsible for it... but so had he, in a way. He'd known, always known, who I was with. "You must tell the younger Legolas to care for you."

"I will."

"And to fight with you."

"Oh, that too. He can't escape it." I muttered. "I need to train. Aragorn, Legolas, whoever's around. I will return in a moment to finish these films before the healing. But I have a sudden craving for this pizza..." Another smile, sad, but also a mixture of affection and amusement as he stared from myself to Legolas. Then he stood up, slowly, and left the room.

The urge to follow and ask 'Are you okay with this?' came and went.

Truthfully, I couldn't ask anymore. I couldn't take responsibility for his happiness.

"Are you okay?" Legolas' soft voice came against my ear, as he leaned down, a hand sliding down my back.

"Make sure he's okay." I said quietly. "He doesn't like cars. And the world's so new..."

"He will survive here. Boromir adapts easily." Legolas slid his hand up the back of my top, rubbing the warm skin, and slid in behind me, pulling me against his chest. "Leave him to me."

"I will." I leaned against him, sighed, and shut my eyes. "Take him to Egypt."

"When he is ready for a plane." Legolas chuckled softly. He squeezed me gently, and I felt it, this sharp exhale of air from him as well. Releasing something. "I will. And you may be right. Who can say how his cancer will go if he is here, being treated, and being cared for? But … you did not want him to stay in my house?"

"Maybe some of the time. But if he's going to get used to this world... suburbs are as good as anything. An apartment would be great. He could sit there and watch the world." I added, "And that's your treasure. That place. You can decide if he goes."

"One day he will."

I nodded and shut my eyes. I wanted to sleep suddenly. God. I was so relieved.

"I'm still angry with you." I muttered. But probably not as angry as I would have been if it'd played out the way Cere had said. "You better make sure-"

"I will."

"Good." I knew I didn't need to say anymore.

We sat quietly and Boromir didn't return. Brian came in, muttering something about 'saving the films for after the surgery', before vanishing again. I knew that meant Boromir was worse than he'd let on.

"Go make sure he's okay."

"I am listening to him. He is upset but … he is not drowning himself." Legolas responded. "Trust me. Focus on your baby."

"I do. I am. Okay." I muttered. I did trust Legolas. Fuck, I was angry with him for what he'd done, but... I wanted to swear my head off at him for hours. He hadn't done it yet. My Legolas, the one in Middle Earth, hadn't done anything yet. But he would have. Maybe he wouldn't have meant for it to go as far as it had, who knew, maybe he'd really only tried to protect me. But …

It wasn't going to happen.

Damn. My son was awesome.

"Boromir asked to sleep in here." Brian's voice came in, quiet, as he stepped in. He held out a bowl of golden orange sorbet. "I said it's fine."

"Okay. Good." I yawned again, tired still, and slowly stood up. "I need to sleep."

"I'll carry you to bed." Legolas slid up easily, and lifted me up in his arms like I weighed nothing, carrying me outside into the dark night. I saw Boromir in the kitchen, sitting at the table, and Brian returning to sit beside him.

Legolas lowered me carefully into the camping bed. He slid down to sit beside me once he'd switched on the fan that was out here, and lay there, stroking my back slowly.

"Sing. Like you used to." I muttered. It felt like years since he'd done that. I missed it.

To my surprise, when he sang, it wasn't in Elvish. It wasn't ancient.

_'On a cold, wet afternoon_  
_In a room full of emptiness_  
_By a freeway I confess_  
_I was lost in the pages_  
_Of a book full of death_  
_Reading how we'll die alone_  
_And if we're good, we'll lay to rest_  
_Anywhere we want to go_

_In your house I long to be_  
_Room by room patiently_  
_I'll wait for you there_  
_Like a stone_  
_I'll wait for you there_  
_Alone_

_On my deathbed I will pray_  
_To the gods and the angels_  
_Like a pagan to anyone_  
_Who will take me to heaven_  
_To a place I recall_  
_I was there so long ago_  
_The sky was bruised_  
_The wine was bled_  
_And there you led me on_

_In your house I long to be_  
_Room by room patiently_  
_I'll wait for you there_  
_Like a stone_  
_I'll wait for you there_  
_Alone_

_And on I read_  
_Until the day was gone_  
_And I sat in regret_  
_Of all the things I've done_  
_For all that I've blessed_  
_And all that I've wronged_  
_In dreams until my death_  
_I will wander on_

_In your house I long to be_  
_Room by room patiently_  
_I'll wait for you there_  
_Like a stone_  
_I'll wait for you there_  
_Alone'_

It was sad. It sounded like he'd sung it often. But … I mumbled, just about in sleep, "Not alone anymore. No more protecting me."

I fell asleep, as he slid in beside me, the cool air of the fan brushing across both of us.

* * *

**A/N :  
**

**Phew. May come back to edit this one in the future... **

**Would love to see how people picture 'Cere'. That may or may not be his real name... lol **


	32. Waiting for news

Legolas didn't stay with me. He must have gone to sleep near Boromir, taking on my advice, and it was the right choice. The next day Boromir seemed able to let us both near him, as he prepared for this surgery, which was a massive deal. He wasn't allowed to eat and could only drink small amounts of clear fluids.

Clearly it was serious if the surgen had wanted it to be done so fast. Brian and I knew that, and maybe Legolas, but Boromir had his mind on something else. Me.

He barely looked at me that morning, as he readied himself, as Brian and Legolas tried to prepare him for what would happen. I was more of a fly on the wall, than actually taking part, and as much as it saddened me I knew it was what was needed right now.

He had to shower with some special soap. They'd do something about the hair in the way, apparently, but Boromir didn't seem to care much about that. Then he was gone, Brian and Legolas going with him, Legolas really taking on the 'take care of him' thing. Boromir had to be admitted at ten in the morning for his surgery at one.

So I sat at home. On the couch. And waited.

Legolas came home at twelve.

"Brian and Cele will remain close." He came into hug me, hard, as soon as he was within arms reach. "Cele will not let him come to harm."

"He better not or he's no son of mine." The joke fell flat. I smiled weakly. "Nice to have a grown up son handy."

Legolas just nodded, distracted, staring over my head. He held me against him, eyes distant, some unreadable expression across his face.

"Was he doing okay?"

"They admitted him and Brian, as his brother in the laws of the land, did the paperwork." Legolas said quietly. "Everything is going ahead on time. Brian and Cele will have to wait outside at twelve thirty, as he will enter pre-op, and then they wait."

And so did we. I sighed.

"You brought him here to your world. He would not have more than mere months without this. And we know he will live at least four years."

"More, hopefully, if he's a good boy."

Legolas's soft chuckle vibrated against my cheek, his hands stroking my back, leaning against me. "Yes, more if he's good. So we wait. Come- I have a present for you."

A present?

He had me sit down on the couch and slid a DVD into the player. I watched, unsure, as he flopped beside me.

"Not in the mood for movies..."

"This is special." Legolas responded. "It was done while you were in hospital." He lifted his hand and pressed play.

My baby. I reconized it straight away, this light grey against darker grey, a head, a heart, and we sat there for twenty minutes, as the DVD played. The nurse was pointing things out. Heart, legs, arms, hands, face, nose, brain, maybe checking for injuries, maybe not.

"He is perfect." Legolas said softly. He held something out, a little photo in a frame, adding, "And this is for you to take back. To show me."

"I did?"

"No, but I would like it if you did." He smiled and reached out to touch me, brushing hair out of my face, leaning down to kiss my lips gently. "Forgive me. Please. I know I was wrong. I know you are not the same but..."

"I do. I mean, you haven't done it to me, even if you tried to." I grumbled the last part. Couldn't resist. "But …"

"I will support him now as I should have then." Legolas read my mind. He always did. He gazed ahead to where our baby wriggled in my womb, a mixture of sadness and warmth, adding, "I wish I had. I always wished I had. I was afraid."

"You're never afraid in battle but you are with this?"

"You are more frightening to me than any battle, my love. Sometimes I falter. But I am learning, even now. I am training still. I am stiill unsure if you have chosen me."

"I have. Not that there was really a choice. I just … I guess. I wanted something." The whole 'father' idea didn't seem so obvious or likely now. I wanted Boromir because he was affectionate, and sweet, but also tough... and because some part of me had hoped that if I'd tried to care for him long enough I could love him like that. "I wish..."

"You care for him and it can be hard for a man and a woman to find a balance with such strong feelings."

"I should have done it after-"

"No, you have your own things to think of."

"No one gets it right the first time. I mean, look at my first boyfriend." I tried to joke, smiling weakly, and he laughed softly. I watched the video until it was over. This, I could cope with, this life. This iddy biddy wriggly thing. I changed the topic from Boromir, because I couldn't quite face what I'd done to him today, to someone slightly less stressful. "Cele is ...um."

"A shock even to you?" Legolas laughed suddenly, shaking his head. "He shocks all he first meets. I believed it was because they were Elf-kin, or dwarf, but no. His strength is something many admire. I would see you in him so many nights."

I nodded. Honestly, the whole 'been around for x amunt of years' thing still bothered me a little. It was too much to take in. Legolas went quiet and we sat there, sside by side, his hand still over mine.

We watched the clock.

Once again I felt anxious. Anxious that, by changing something again, this might not work. And, naturally, from chaotic 'Ahh, past, present, Legolas, Boromir, oranges, too hot!' … it became calm. Cool. The thunderstorm outside was pretty. The air conditioning inside was cooling us both down. I had bags upon bags of lollies, thanks to Brian's faithful following of my panicked instructions regarding what to buy.

And Legolas was keeping his distance. He was waiting for me to make the first move. Oh, he touched me, he brushed his hand across mine, but he didn't try and cuddle or kiss, and he was quick to help me up or down off the couch when I had to pee. Quick to get my crutches over.

I was glad he was doing that. Because as it turned into twelve thirty, then twelve forty six, and Brian called, I knew Boromir was now being taken in. Probably sedated or something. I shifted on the couch, restless, hands tightening and opening. What I'd give for a sword and a orc right now. That may have sounded sadistic but … I wanted to smash something over the head.

"What if he's too upset to-"

"He would not risk your anger any more."

The joke fell flat. I smiled weakly and stared ahead at the window, at the rain outside, breathing in and out in counted breathes. One, two, three, breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Okay.

In some ways it wasn't like before, when I kept second guessing myself, kept doubting my choices. I knew what I'd said last night had been the right thing. For once … I was fine with what I'd decided. That wasn't the problem. The problem was now I had to accept that, once again, I had no idea if I'd changed Boromir's future or not. Once again his future was wide open. Then again- so was mine. Legolas. No one here had a clear future, not like back then, when at least I knew Legolas had this and that to do.

And once again I'd changed it.

Five minutes to one.

I reached up to run my fingers through my scalp, frustrated, anxious, and a bit freaked out. Was that even okay for me to do? Well, tough. Boromir was … two minutes to one... getting one last shot at having a long life. Without me. Well. Okay. With me. But not as a lover or a girlfriend, and not as a wife.

"All right." I muttered. "I need icecream."

Slowly I hoisted myself up off the chair and hobbled into the kitchen, crutches under arms, making myself an icecream tower. One ten. It was one ten and … what would they be doing right now? Cutting into him? Would they do this while he was awake? I had this horrible memory of a documentry where they'd done that.

"Icecream, banana, cream, double dollop cream, hundreds and thousands..." I mumbled to myself, barely hearing myself, dumping icecream into a large noodle bowl. Cut up a banana into slices. Dropped cream, then thicker cream, then multicolour hundreds and thousands. Chocolate cookie.

Mix.

Legolas had followed but he wasn't trying to tell me everything was okay. I wished he would. I'd have loved to yell at someone right now. Or throw icecream. I grabbed a wooden spoon from the drawer, turned and... was just in time to see Legolas tip the masterpiece of icecream into the bin.

"Hey!"

"You are pregnant and it's not organic." He frowned as he picked up the box. To my horror he shoved it under the tap, hot water destroying my icecream, Legolas heading for the sweets. I darted around the table to snatch them up, gathering them, glaring at him.

"Don't you dare..."

"I will take you out for lunch."

"I don't want to go out for lunch." I snapped. My emotions were taking a swing the other way, I could feel it, and somehow I had no control over this. "I want to eat icecream and..."

Legolas moved forward to kiss me hard, hand grasping my face, pressing me against the bench. I groaned softly against his lips. Torn between wanting to knee him in the balls and ...and eat the Elf alive all afternoon. Apparently this sentiment was shared, his hands slid down my body to hoist me up, bum on the counter, Legolas pressing against me hard as he kissed me again, and again, and again, teeth gripping my lip and biting playfully.

"Cere is with him. Do not panic." Legolas murmered against my lips, stroking my legs, a finger brushing across the bare skin of my shoulder as he pushed back the hair there. He kissed the bare skin, again and again, his warm breath tickling my skin.

"I want to eat sweets." I muttered, inhaling sharply as I felt a hand slide down my back, such a simple gesture but … it sent a wave of need through me that shocked me. No. No. Boromir- in surgery. I couldn't get turned on right now.

"I fear for the baby. If you must... let it be one sweet thing a day."

"One packet."

"Yes." Legolas agreed, laughing softly, "If it must be. But no more."

He continued to run his fingers up and down my back, slowly, and as uncomfortable as it was us to be so close in the heat, I didn't mind. I had cravings for cold showers, or a bath, and Legolas. Ice cream covered Legoals. Legolas. In a pool. Oh god. The image of him and me... in a pool... in the sun...

Modern times with old Legolas never seemed so good suddenly. The second my knees tightened, his weight had pressed on me once more, kissing me hard sudenly with all the hundreds of years worth of ...everything. Loneliness, lust, every emotion and sense he'd had. Everything he had saved to share with me.

But I couldn't indulge. Not yet. The fear that I'd somehow destroyed his will to live or something sat on top of ...whatever part of the brain that was involved in giving in and having a good time. I felt his body slump against mine, some non-verbal cue giving him the hint that this wasn't going to happen, and his weight moved off me somewhat.

I sighed. Soon. "When we know..." I felt like a tease. But it wasn't going to work. I wanted to be fully there for Legolas, when we finally got to that part of our intimacy, I didn't want to lie there and be somewhere else mentally. My brain was in that room with Boromir. "When I can be … you know. With _you_."

"I know." Legolas smiled weakly. "I know. We are both waiting in our hearts for news. Cere will guard him now and after. He is within the room with Boromir ."

"How can Cere … get in there to help him? He hasn't also got a surgical degree, or a anaesthesiologist … certificate... or a magical Elven cloak of ...cloaking?" I was only half joking about all three. Seriously. My son was immortal, a fact I still hadn't been able to accept, and who the hell knew what he'd studied?

"No, but he may sleep and spend some time with Boromir in another place." Legolas laughed at my open jaw, pushing it shut, leaning forward to bite my shoulder. "He is only a lawyer in this era. It is a rule, amongst those Elves that come out, that they may only be one thing at a time."

"In two areas."

"Even some humans have that. We are careful to choose one profession per thirty years." Legolas reached out slowly, warily, to take bag after bag of candies from me. "Let us go to lunch. This food will only increase your stress."

"I don't really feel like it." I deflated. Okay. Stress eating- bad idea. But going out seemed useless too. "Not till I know he's out and safe."

"Then we can … call for food." He wanted to relax me, I realised, Legolas was trying to find a way to cheer me up. When I nodded, Legolas relaxed, and moved for the phone. "There is a place that creates organic pizza..."

I was kind of relieved when, even though he'd lived here, he clearly wasn't comfortable with phones. Was that crazy- to see that, however 'modern' his life was now, that he still couldn't quite merge with this world? He'd struggled enough in Middle Earth while amongst men. But at least Legolas knew how to mix phone with pizza. Once he'd ordered us several large ones I felt some grief for the icecream fade once more. Garlic bread somehow did that.

The afternoon dragged out slowly, far too slowly, minutes inching past. We ate when the pizza came, this fresh creation of organic delight … or this was what the box claimed, anyway... it tasted closer to flour to me. Weird flour. I supposed I could get used to it. I didn't care.

Two. How the hell could it only be two? What kind of pizza was delivered and eaten before an hour had passed? I scowled at the empty box as if this was the cause of all my problems.

Time continued to pass excruciatingly slow.

I started to dream of things I could do. Sign Boromir up for a dating service. Find a... an arranged marriage somewhere. Somehow. No, it wasn't my business, but I had this desperate urge to get him somehow happy. It surprised me how little it bothered me, right now, the idea of him with another.

I went searching for Boromir's room, hobbling along on my crutches, but wasn't hard to find. Brian's little house had two bedrooms, one which must have been used as a computer room, because there was a now empty desk sitting to one side with several stacks of games still in a plastic box at one end. There was also a small single bed, a bedside table, and Boromir's belongings sitting in a still half open drawer. Just his tunic, his leggings, still cut open by the doctors, but he clearly hadn't been able to throw them out. When I came closer I found that they'd been washed and cleaned.

The smell of something cooking from the kitchen caught my attention... or rather... the pregnany's attention... but I was too busy. Nope. Not yet. Curiosity about Legolas and his kitchen adventures could wait.

My hand grasped the leaf necklace around my neck, Legolas' leaf, as I gazed around. What I was doing here... I wasn't quite sure. But one look at the sheets and pillows gave me the mad urge to ...wash them. Change them. Give him clean linen. That was always soothing, wasn't it? It always had been to me. I stripped off the brown and white pillowcases, the sheets, the bedspread cover, all a crazy effort when trying to balance on one good leg and a pair of crutches, and dragged the lot of them into the laundry by hooking the sheet on the edge of the crutches.

_Now_. Washing machine. Washing powder. ...did I need softener with this stuff? Probably. I added what I assumed was right, according to the packets, and pressed the buttons.

"Wenduin, what are you doing?" Legolas called. He sounded amused. Bloody magic Elf ears probably told him exactly what I was doing.

"Washing."

"Boromir will not be home soon enough to enjoy your effort."

Damnit. I was right. His bloody magic elf ears. I scowled and pressed 'wash' anyway. "Then... then we can take him a pillow or something. I'm sure hospitals let people take in pillows and stuff."

The smell of food continued to play and tease my nostrils as I bent down to watch the water soak the sheets and swirl around.

"Does this mean you expect me to hang this in the sun?" Legolas leaned against the door, raising an eyebrow, and to my amusement he was actually wearing an _apron_. My Elf. An apron. He twisted his head suddenly before I could answer, as if he'd heard something, and he turned and hurried off.

I couldn't hear anything.

My mind, however, came up with every possible wonderful and terrible scenario that could ever happen. Death, life, braindamage, QUADLA..something. I hurried after him, hobbling on crutches, trying my best to not slip on the floor or on my ass.

It was just the stupid timer for the oven. Legolas was bent over, blonde hair slightly fuzzy, tugging something out from inside. He glanced at me over his shoulder and smile faintly, "Go rest. There is some time left before we know something.."

I nodded faintly and retreated. Why argue?

There was something strange about it. About all of it. As much as I liked … this flushing toilet, and that television, and all of it, Legolas was different. Not completely changed, nothing like that, but … was it the surroundings? The lack of Elves? The fact that he was right now in a modern kitchen, cooking, wearing an apron?

I felt selfish but suddenly, somehow, I wished for ...I wasn't sure. This place wasn't my home, no, but it was more than that. The world didn't feel quite so real or important any more. The television had no real interest for me, I was physically repelled by the advertisements that screamed 'BUY ME', and while I craved sweet things... I had to admit. The craving for icecream was long gone now and replaced by the urge for oranges. Not just any oranges. _Organic_. Trust Legolas to get THAT word stuck so hard in my head that it'd become a hormonal pregnancy craving.

I flopped onto the couch and stared at something half hidden under a newspaper. A dagger? Clearly Gondor made. Boromir must have had it on him. I hadn't even realised he'd had more than a tunic. Had Brian hidden it? I hoped so- Australia wasn't exactly forgiving when it came to weapons. They'd probably have reported him to cops if he'd had THAT on his belt in hospital. y

Above all else, I wished Boromir was here, not because I wished for ...romance. It wasn't that. It was that, between him and Legolas, I always had felt like he was closer to being 'middle ground' and I felt a little less homesick. He wasn't a fatherly replacement. A 'Brianly' replacement was probably closer to the truth. While I was in Middle Earth, he was the closest resemblance of someone I already knew, and while I was here? Closest thing to Middle Earth. Legolas took this world far too well. Boromir, at least, still was shocked and confused most of the time.

"Wendy..."

Legolas' hesitant voice came as I glanced up. He smiled faintly, apron gone now, and came to sit beside me. When I shut my eyes I could … smell him. He hadn't changed. No 'old Elf' musk here. I leaned against him, sliding my hand up his chest, and felt him shudder. Opening one eye I saw his face had gone slightly warmer, breathing a little faster, just from that simple touch. He reached out to stroke my leg, slowly, and ass if he couldn't resist, slowly tugged my legs over his lap, ever careful of the still healing wound.

"Sorry. I shouldn't ...touch you till we can actually touch, should I?"

"Elves are-" Legolas reached to grasp my hand, removing it, only to press his lips to my palm. "-controlled only for so long before our instinct returns..."

"Instinct?"

"To connect with the one we love. To be close to her. To feel her skin, her heart, and-" He murmured something, shutting his eyes, Elvish finishing whatever it was. I may not have yet understood it but … I got the idea. Flashes of my OWN 'ideas' came. Swimming. Hot sunshine. Cold water. Skin, kissing, and twisting in the water.

"Please tell me there's a river or something..." I muttered, my own face flustered, wondering if this was also the 'bond' thing. If we were sharing the same image.

"There is a river and a swimming area cut into the land beside it, which always renews and cleans the pool of water." Legolas smiled faintly, shutting his eyes, adding, "There is often one or more in it."

"One or more what?"

"Elves. We may exist in your world, hidden, but we often feel the need to live close. There is a small community that live within riding distance of our home."

Ah. Of course. Riding distance. I had to assume they meant regular plain old horse, or maybe bikes, because … I couldn't see the Elves somehow having brought unicorns or something.

"How many … Elves are around?"

"Around fifty on my land."

Fifty. Oh. Of course. Fifty. That was... "A lot of them! ...none I know, right?"

"Yes." Legolas smiled. The change of subject from barely hidden desire to Elves was clearly a welcome one. "For we cannot live alone for long. It was not long after I came to this country that others came to join me. Most you would not know, young Elves, still able to adapt to this world. All those you would remember or would remember you remain in the safety of our city and our heart."

"I... I can't believe anyone's alive." How long had it been? No one had given me exact specifics but it had to be a long time, at least as far as 'human years' went, given that they'd been around since … Atlantis. Pre-Atlantis! "But-"

"Most are. Not Frodo, nor Gimli, but most are alive." Legolas' good mood faded somewhat at Frodo and Gimli's names. "When they are ready, they may come to see you, but most of the ancient Elves have changed and retreated within now.

"Frodo..."

"Came with us."

"I know." I knew that. Of course I did. I just hadn't... thought about it. About him dying. Undying lands suggested he DIDN'T die. "Was he happy?"

"Frodo lived for far longer than any other hobbit, a time of great peace, of great comfort, a time when we knew only joy and warmth. As did Bilbo and Gimli. They no longer felt any pain, nor suffering, had many friendships new and old, and experianced only peace and contentment until it was time for them to move on. It was, as humans say now, paradice for them and us for a long time." Legolas may have said more other times but somehow, that short collection of sentances, it seemed to hold more weight for me than anything else he'd said so far.

I breathed out slowly and could almost see it. "I believe you. It's not now?"

"Deep within the Earth, protected from the world, the Undying land remains as it was. A haven of peace and love, untouched by the world, where Elves go to heal, to be born, to learn, or to die." Legolas responded, his hand brushing along my arm slowly, eyes slightly hazy and distant as he spoke of it. "I will take you there when it is close to your time of passing so that we may spend the last of our days together there. When you and I are ready to leave the world."

"I might shock them by being grey and wrinkly."

"No, you will not. For many an Elf, since the time of Middle Earth, have allowed their own bodies to age. We no longer expect to live as immortal creatures- some of us remain for many ages, ancient creatures removed from the world- but there are others who will remain for only a thousand years before they are reborn. Death is something my kin are slowly learning to forget their fear of."

Slowly was right, if it'd really been so long since Middle Earth, but I had to guess this was progress for them. I shut my eyes as his hand continued to massage my skin, the dry hand slightly scratching, my legs across his lap still. "Deal. We'll go when I'm old."

"You will see it before then, for there are some who would gladly see you again." Legolas slid down to lie down, drawing me down with him, his arms pulling me against his chest. I nuzzled into him willingly. Somehow my tension was fading and draining away. I felt only sleepy, sleepy in the warm afternoon, in his arms, and so comfortable. His breath tickled as he added, "But they can wait. I need you before they do."

"You got me." I murmered. Sleep came up slowly to sink around me. It was true and I knew it. The words filled me with a kind of contentment. Yeah. He had me. And I'd follow him to magical Elf land when it was time to die. This time... this time, I wasn't afraid of it. Of Legolas dying when I did.

I felt his lips curve up in a smile against my forehead. "I always knew that."

"Mmm?"

"Always. Even when you felt drawn to Boromir."

"Be funny if he's the future lover of our son." Funny, like Twilight was funny, and disturbing all at once.

Legolas laughed softly. "He's not. I asked our son. But they will be close friends. Boromir was like an uncle. No. Cele has not yet found her or him that he loves."

Somehow this was a relief. I lay there, nuzzled into his chest, wondering about my son's lovers... right into sleep.

The phone woke me up. It was dark.

Legolas jumped up, easily leaping over me on the couch, giving me a 'stay' look as he moved for the little cordless phone. I assumed this was what it meant... and naturally I disobeyed it, clumsily getting to my feet with the crutches, trying to blink away the disorientation that came with falling asleep in the light and waking in the dark. By the time I'd followed him into the kitchen he was already halfway into a conversation, nodding, murmering things in Elvish.

"Hey, English."

Legolas smiled faintly. "Yes, that. He's fine. It went as expected. Better."

"You're not just trying to make me feel better?"

"Well-"

He was. I hobbled closer as I heard a voice on the other side, a faint, "He is, Mum, but Boromir's out of it!" came from the earpiece. I leaned against Legolas.

"What happened?"

"Well... there was a few complications, not unexpected, and a bleed that caused some problems." Cele's voice was faint but audible, the earpiece between us, his voice surprisingly reassuring. How come my grown up son always sounded so CHEERFUL even when talking about 'complications' and 'minor bleeds!' "They handled it. He's fine. Cancer cut out and he's in post-op, still out of it, and will be for a few days. They'll keep him in a medical coma until they're certain his brain isn't trying to swell out of his ears. It's normal."

Seriously. This ki... man... was a half-Elf? I smiled faintly, half amused and half concerned, but his casual tone was putting me at ease. Legolas too- his shoulders slumped just a fraction, and he sighed softly.

"Relax, father, mum. Boromir's in good hands. There's a hotal nearby, just ten minutes, three if I run, so I'll stay there. Keep in contact with his conciousness. Father- take her home. He won't be awake for at least a week. Boromir's ordered you two to relax. He's fine. Refusing to die, he promises, at least until he's fathered a daughter to marry me."

Oh yeah, something about astral, and Legolas' smile grew a little more amused. I rolled my eyes. That was just as weird as if my son was with Boromir.

"That's weird. No."

"He's teasing." '

I knew. "So..."

"Go _home_, father, and take her. Wait till you see father trying to drive, mum, hope you're better at relaxing him than I am."

"In the morning. Early." Legolas responded. He was relaxing though. "We'll leave tomorrow."

"Thank you. For being there." When I couldn't do it, couldn't face it. I was selfish... yeah. But somehow facing another Helm's Deep was less scary than facing Boromir after what I'd said to him while he was in such a bad position. Helm's Deep, with Boromir at my side, only made me feel worse. Fuck. He was a great person. I just … couldn't do it. Even when I tried to let Legolas go and 'do the right thing' it hadn't been right.

"Stop it!" Cele's voice cut in. "Mum. If you're feeling bad. I've already signed him up for online dating. We'll find someone."

Oh good god.

"Goodnight." Legolas said, just as I opened my mouth to retort, reaching up to cup my face with his free hand. "My love to you."

"And to you, father, mum. Love you both. Try and sleep. You can play tomorrow. Father will need his energy to brave the dangerous modern streets and mechanical horse." And before we could answer, he'd hung up, a laugh in his voice as he teased us.

"I guess I'm here for another few weeks." I wasn't sure why I felt stressed by that. I missed Middle Earth. I wasn't going anywhere though till I knew he was awake and complaining once more.

Dinner turned out to be a vegetarian quiche Legolas had made earlier, which was more vegetable than anything else, and was now cool. We sat down to eat it. The mood had changed, lightened, and Legolas even found a candle to light, which made our 'sparkling water' and special simple meal even better. After, maybe we were exhausted, because we barely did more than snuggle before we'd fallen asleep in each other's arms in the camping bed out in the shed, Legolas' arms tight around me, the electronic fan blowing cool air across us in the warm night.

Legolas got up early, murmuring for me to sleep still, and I watched as I drifted in and out of sleep as he moved silently around to pack things into a bag, sweep the floor, the very early sunrise lighting the room a little and casting a soft warm glow across him. My chest felt as glowy as that sun and I lay there, half asleep, basking for the first time in days the sheer warmth and love I had for him.

It made me suddenly so happy that I wanted to roll around, squeal, and make happy squeaks, which kind of startled me by how cute and girlish that sounded given that we'd more or less fallen in love while I was smashing things with a sword or impaling them on arrows.

I was happy. Sad too, guilty, but … happy. Shesh. What had been WRONG with me? How could I confuse it?

"I can't sleep." I decided softly, more to myself than him, and carefully rose. Legolas didn't seem that surprised. He smiled warmly across to me. "Good, for I think we should farewell Brian and his Jess. I do not like driving... we should leave."

"Are they awake?"

"She has returned from her job. Brian was in the World of War Craft and is also awake, but I doubt for much longer."

At five in the morning? Poor girl. Brian... didn't shock me so much, honestly, I remembered he often got in the geek zone on the weekends.

"I should shower..."

"You do not need to." Legolas' smile faded as he glanced outside. "I wish to be gone before … before there are many cars."

Was he really that anxious about getting going? Maybe he was. Come to think of it... if Legolas hadn't changed much, handling a car might be worse for him than anyone else. I nodded.

"All right. When we get home." And when I healed I'd drive. An anxious driver wasn't safe.

The word home, from me, did something to him. More happiness, a kind of peace returning to his face, Legolas relaxed. "Yes, and you will love what I have built for you."

What he'd built for me? "What?"

"It is a surprise. Come."

"Okay." I followed him out.

We got about three steps to the door before I heard it. Something that'd once been so damn familiar when we'd been dating. Brian, tired and strung out on caffeine, loosing his temper.

Not at me, for once, though my body reacted instinctably and tried to back up into Legolas. It was at Jess. Even I could hear it, sudden accusations of cheating, her being called a whore, something about smoke, a full on fight suddenly EXPLODING out of no where. Or at least... that might have been how it seemed to others. We could even see it- they were in the bright kitchen, Jess' standing there numbly with a 'deer in headlights' expression as Brian ranted.

But I remembered. With Brian... it was never out of no where. He could stew on something for days, in his mind, before it'd explode when he was tired, or drunk, or in a caffeine lull, and right now he might have easily been in all three. And it was never towards friends. It had always been towards me. Now it was towards his new girlfriend.

I knew it was cowardly but … when I heard it, his words, it scared me like it used to. I felt weak and tiny suddenly, even though this time it was directed at Jess, and hurt. I wasn't sure why. Because he'd been such a good friend to me over the past few weeks? But …

But how was it that someone could be a great friend and a terrible boyfriend? How did that even work?When I was Brian's girlfriend he behaved the same way but … but _now_ he behaved great with me. Like he used to before we'd really started dating. I stood, frozen outside in the tropical rain, as Brian ranted at Jess. I'd barely seen her, barely heard her, she tended to work crazy hours and seemed shy. At least I'd assumed it was 'shy'. Hearing this just confirmed it. I had to get out of Brian's house and the sooner the better.

A hand closed on my shoulder. Legolas stood behind me, finger to his lips, and reluctantly I turned and followed him back to the shed out the back.

"Shouldn't I … tell him off?"

"You cannot decide for them." Legolas responded, glancing past me to the house, a faint frown line between his eyes. "I think we will pack."

"Stay at your house?"

"Our house... and yes." Legolas stared at the house a moment longer before he met my eyes. Then he smiled, relaxing, reaching out with one hand to stroke the side of my face, fingers brushing across my hairline.

"Boromir's going to be in hospital a little longer. I guess we could relax before I return." I smiled weakly. He'd survived the operation. And … and that meant that I'd have to return to Middle Earth. It wasn't a law, or anything, but … but I wanted Legolas-in-ME to be there as I was pregnant. This Legolas had seen it already.

"You need not linger if you feel I would be ...lonely." Legolas drew me to him, wrapping his arms around me, and I felt this faint sense through our bond that he WOULD be lonely. But … not unhappy. Had I really dumped his ass in his 'timeline'? For so long? How could I do that? I leaned against him, shutting my eyes, the warmth and comfort of this contact drowning out the arguments inside.

I breathed out slowly and felt tension fade. Oh yeah. In here. Here was the … the calm zone.

"We will clean the shed and then go in. Give them half an hour." Legolas decided softly. "I do not think the roads will be too crowded still."

Agreeing quietly, I followed him back, and tried to help on crutches as we cleaned. But it didn't FEEL right. When we returned, Brian sat at the kitchen table, looking tired, the faint smell of beer on him, drinking another energy drink. Jess was at the stove and smiled faintly at us, a quick glance, her face quickly twisting back towards the stove.

Brian had a hand print on his face. She had a cloth against her nose.

It made me furious. I forgot Legolas and his wisdom, if it was that, because suddenly something reared up in me that had nothing to do with who I used to be. This was pure orc busting Wenduin.

"Did you HIT her?"

"Huh? No... no, I walked straight into a door. Good morning." Jess smiled faintly, eyes darting to Brian, and the nervousness more or less made it obvious it was a lie. Even Legolas stiffened. I met his eyes- his hearing would more or less tell me what'd happened- and when he sighed and shook his head faintly, I knew.

It was total bullshit. I turned onto Brian. "Liar. Tell the truth."

"She hit me first."

"Did she?" The woman deserved a medal. I wished I'd hit him. Angry, I stared at him, amazed by how I was starting to view him like an Orc. Soft spots. Squishy spots. Breakable bone spots. Where I could do most harm.

"I'm sorry. I lost my temper." Jess' voice was soft, quiet, and she focused on the scrambled eggs. I guessed they were for him.

Brian frowned at her back, half apologetic, but there was still something there, this mistrust. What had he been screeching about? Cheating? Hadn't he accused me of that?

Well, okay, I _had_ been, but... but by that point, I'd more or less decided to dump his ass. Jess had been working. Paying for most of his things.

"You did hit her, didn't you?" I snapped. It pissed me off. It really pissed me off.

"Look... mind your business. What I do with her's not your business... and I apologised, it ain't gonna happen again."

Maybe not my business... but that wasn't the point. I remembered how I'd felt before, how I used to feel, and when I saw Jess slide the scrambled eggs... all of them... over to Brian my temper exploded. Not happen again? "It ALWAYS happened again with me, you douchebag, and now you're doing it to someone else?"

I grabbed the plate and slammed it over his head. Eggs, toast and broken plate flew everywhere, cutting him beautifully, which gave me GREAT satisfaction."Get some fucking professional help, you asshole, stop punching people!"

Brian stood up, suddenly, and there he was. The old Brian. The boyfriend who'd lost his temper with me. The one that could paralyse me with fear with that look he had now, like the rest of the world didn't matter, and he just ...was furious with me. I knew how this went. As he lifted his fist, as the rage exploded in his mind, I cringed, all too familiar with this...

The fist hit something all right. Not me. It hit the big Elf.

Legolas stood between us, very sudden, with the speed only an Elf could really manage, and once again he looked just as unearthly as he used to. Almost like some kind of big sexy blonde angel ...Elf... and the change in his attitude, in his energy, it was massive.

"I agree." He was so calm, more than usual, staring down at Brian, back to me. I couldn't see his face. I could see Brian's face though and he stared up at Legolas with that kind of expression I'd seen earlier on Jess' face. The 'oh fuck, deer in headlights' kind of fear. Legolas was so quiet, so cold, as he stood there, not a muscle moving. His voice was so damn intimidating and angry suddenly. "Get help."

Two words. Two words that made Brian fall down into his seat. I half wanted to see Legolas' face, guessing he was furious suddenly, but was half glad I couldn't.

"Fuck you." Brian spat.

Legolas twisted around, slowly, and I saw something in his hand. His knife? His ancient knife? When had that come out? He met my eyes, smiling a reassuring smile, reaching up to stroke my face. But there was still that darkness, that intimidating anger, as he said softly, "Touch another woman, human, and I will remember how you treated mine. I will tie you up and she will show you all that I taught her. Till you do, we are not friends."

His words made ME feel a little freaked out. I'd never heard Legolas sound so angry before.

I _liked_ it.

Legolas met Jess' eyes, who had frozen, and his rare smile was extended to her. "You do not need us to tell you what to do." He moved to Brian again, who flinched, adding cooly, "Thankyou for your home. Until next time. Goodbye."

He moved away, I followed, without us staring back. Legolas moved his things to the car's back seat, helped me into the front, and we sat there a moment in the driveway.

"I see you feel less weak." Legolas said, softly, when we were some distance away. He glanced at me briefly, reaching across to squeeze my knee, adding, "I have missed seeing your temper. Is ethat strange? You look healthier."

"I've missed my temper." Funny. He looked healthier too. The flush of anger was still on his face, even though his expression had returned to neutral, Legolas' hands tense on the wheel. He glanced down at the car. Somehow... this didn't SEEM right. Legolas. Trying to drive a car. He tensed as a car drove past. Okay, he wasn't happy with this, and I offered, "Um. I could still try to drive..."

"No."

A knock on the window and we both jumped. Legolas twisted around as we saw Jess, bag in hand, standing there.

"Sorry... to bother you both. Can I get a lift?"

"Can you drive?" I asked quickly, before Legolas could, and when she nodded, I grinned. Okay. Problem solved. "Sure... drive to wherever you want to go and then we'll go from there. Right, Leggy?"

"I can do that." Jess agreed. She looked kind of surprised by this too. She glanced up at the house as something CRASHED. "We should go. He's tired and drunk..."

I couldn't tell if Legolas was relieved or annoyed with me for deciding this for both of us. He didn't argue, his barriers up, and moved into the back seat.

As she drove, I sat there, wondering whether I should or shouldn't ask her the obvious question. Had she broken up with Brian? I felt torn myself- Brian had been great these past few weeks as a friend. I still couldn't understand how someone could go from 'good friend' to 'ultimate douchebag of a boyfriend' like that. But I'd witnessed it happening... so clearly it COULD happen. I supposed there was a reason why domestic abuse wasn't obvious. Because not all 'husbands', or wives I supposed, behaved like a dickhead between their rages?

A hand closed on my shoulder beside the window, the fingers massaging it slowly, Legolas leaning forward just a fraction to reach. He didn't speak. I felt warmth and love seep into me though, knowing he was trying to comfort me, and reached up to clasp his hand.

We dropped Jess off somewhere out of the city, after stopping at a Maccas for a quick breakfast, which turned out to be ten hash browns for me. I couldn't explain it. I just wanted TEN hash browns. Nothing else. Had to be another pregnancy thing. Or was it an emotion thing? Nothing like deep fried potato and an Elf. Jess had parents twenty minutes further out of the surburbs, in an area that seemed to be equally fields as it was rows of houses, the rivers swollon with water and the entire area a bright vivid green from all the tropical rain that'd been pouring down.

"Hey." She said, as Legolas moved to the driver's seat, Jess hurrying around to my side. "You got facebook?"

"I used to, yeah..." And had forgotten about it. "You want to be friends?"

"I … sent you a request already. I don't know what … what to do about Brian. But if you like you can friend me." She glanced at Legolas. "If that's okay..."

If that was okay with him? What did Leggy have to do with that? What a weird thing to say. I doubted Legolas even cared about facebook, even if he KNEW about it, and I blinked. "Why wouldn't it? Okay. When I get to some internet I'll add you."

She nodded. Legolas smiled, though she'd probably not have realised it, his lips twitching and his mask cracking a moment. Jess stood up and waved as we pulled out.

The weirdness of Legolas driving became the new focus. I sat there, eating the last of my hashbrowns as I tried to not stare, because while he clearly knew HOW, he wasn't having much fun. Just as I was about to offer to drive again, a text message came in, and I got distracted. Cele.

_'Morning, mum, father. Hope you're already on the road. Boromir status update: zzzzzzzzzz drool. Not exciting yet. Let you know.'_

I read it out to Legolas, who grimiced slightly, and muttered something about having not told Cele my phone number. But he was distracted and tense driving.

At first he hid it well. But the further we drove out of the city the more we ran into big trucks and Legolas hated it. He'd flinch, the car slowing just a tiny bit, or would speed up almost as if he was hoping he could outrun the trucks. Once he even pulled over when three of the big suckers tried to overtake him.

Here he was, Elf who'd stared down a big elephant thing, hating it when trucks drove past him. I might have offered to hold his hand if both of his hands weren't locked in a white knuckle grip on the wheel.

"Put on the music, please..." He said, suddenly, after a good hour of this. "There is already a CD."

I nodded and slid it in. Music drifted past, Elvish music, familiar. Was this the... "This is the Lord of the Rings soundtrack?"

"No. This is a recording of our songs." Legolas' eyes darted to me, even in his stress managing to look amused, and he gazed straight ahead with a long exhale. Tiredness was starting to seep over his face. It worried me a little.

"Did you need to pull over to sleep?"

We could do it now. Nothing but fields all around us, green lush land, the city and suburbs far behind. I watched him carefully as he drove. He wasn't dropping his head or anything but he looked tired.

"No."

"How far?"

Legolas didn't answer for a while, eyes going to the sky, the land, and after a moment he said, "It is a little drive away. I do not need rest. When we are home, I will rest."

"Only a little...? Well. I guess okay."

A little drive away turned out to be much longer than what I'd pictured. And the further we went, I noticed, the more things got flatter, higher, as the sun slowly rose over us and started to light the world. We passed through a cloud at one point, a thick cloud that made Legolas slow down, but I didn't mind this one so much. It was beautiful. And as we slowly made our way through the land, through flat fields, along the road, even Legolas seemed to relax. These roads seemed less used, less popular, winding through agricultural lands and tiny country towns, where we were more likely to see a car than anything. At one point he'd had to overtake a tractor.

We stopped at a small town so I could pee, get some lunch, and wander around, while Legolas took a clearly much needed break in a small park across the road. I watched him as he knelt in the bush, hands touching the soil and the bushes beside him, his forehead almost in the dirt as he … bowed? Or kissed the ground?

The woman in the little grocery store noticed too, though she didn't seem all that surprised, which surprised me. She just smiled and dropped her magazine about a celebreties scandalous marriage. She slid something across for me with an all too obvious stare at Legolas, who was still kneeling there, a leaf sticking to his forehead, "Every time."

"Huh?"

"Every time he drives past. Same thing." She sighed, cheeks flustered as she caught me staring at Legolas, and reached for her magazine to open it up hurriedly. Had she been checking him out?

Jealousy didn't get a second to react. Legolas was back, suddenly, and we were on the road before I could say a word. I reached up to brush the leaf off his forehead, Legolas quick to kiss my wrist while he had a chance, and he glanced sideways at me. "I come this way when I am alone."

"Is it really so far?" I muttered.

"No. I am driving the long way." He explained, softly, as he caught me staring at my phone. "Cele would drive straight there. Highways are not something I can..."

"It's okay."

"If we had driven through Brisbane we would be there by now. It cuts two hours from the journey."

Two hours. Wow. We'd been on the road for almost four hours already. I had to admit sitting here, meeting the admirers of Legolas, it was loosing its fun. "So..."

"We circle this mountain-" Legolas nodded ahead of us. I didn't see an obvious mountain, only a sloping road and a lot of bush, but I trusted him as his hand briefly lifted from the wheel to gesture in a circular motion, "And then we are home."

"So close?"

Legolas nodded.

I settled against the seat, stomach full of food, relaxing as the Elven music started to ease my jealousy away. Of course she'd looked at Legolas. Who wouldn't? I had to relax. I didn't get to see the last stretch of road- I fell asleep, the air conditioning lulling me into a sleep, and only woke when I a shock of pain down my thigh let me know that I was being lifted.

Blinking, a little confused, I stared up at Legolas. He held me carefully against his chest, kicking the door shut, and nodded behind the car. "There."

I followed his gaze.

Up from the driveway, up a path that wound through gardens and semi-dried out grass, was the building. I'd seen it in photos but nothing could prepare me for the actual reality of it.

It was, like in the photo, a mixture of all kinds of styles. Modern, there was that of course, but more of other things. Gondor, Rohan, Elvish, even Dwarven, I could see these mixtures as plain as day, and it both worked and gave me this horrible pang of homesickness for Middle Earth. It wasn't much- there was a porch with a stone railing, which had carvings of horses and dwarven shapes, hidden slightly under the speckled shade a nearby tree cast on it. The pole that held the roof over the porch, which had carvings of twisting leaves and flowers, half concealed under a real creeper that climbed up eagerly.

I saw 'Gondor' in the upstairs balcony area, solid stone, and in the stone building itself. But … also Elvish somehow. Was that the way the bricks were set out, mixed with the wooden frames, the coloured and clear glass widows? Or was it colour of the bricks? They were a pale grey, almost white, like Minas Tirith. The wood was also very pale in shade and the amount of glass used reminded me so much of the half-outdoor Rivendel, which clearly couldn't happen in the Queensland climate. Queensland had too many storms, too much humidity and heat, and I was relieved to see a modern air conditioning unit poking out. An electricity line heading into one oart of the building. A satellite. Phew. He hadn't completely banished stuff.

"I … have missed everything." Legolas admitted as he gazed up, his own eyes going over each part, arms hoisting me against his chest as he readjusted his hold. "And as time passed here, slowly I allowed my memories to return, as I crafted the building. I was not sure if you would … want to know me. I thought that if not- you should have Boromir's home. That you deserved memories of him here. Memories of our journey."

"I want to know you."

He smiled and kissed me, sudden, hugging me hard, sending a shock of pain through my leg. "You can not say this enough to me. I will carry you in and we may rest now."

The door was unlocked, Legolas just giving it a gentle nudge with his foot, and we headed up a staircase that was straight ahead, down a little hallway, and into one of the front rooms. I barely got a chance to see it- Legolas lowered me down onto the bed, careful, and stretched out beside me with a low exhale of relief as he sank onto the sheets. Silken sheets. The bed was surrounded by soft white curtains, some kind of four poster bed, which only gave away hints of the room beyond. Wooden furniture, floor, maybe a rug of some kind.

"Home." Legolas smiled. I watched him as he leaned up to press something beside him, a remote of some kind, and to my amazement.. air conditioning started. I thought he hated technology. Maybe there were some kinds he'd learnt to like.

"Thought you hated the modern world." I teased. I lay back and shut my eyes, feeling his hand drop onto my stomach, the fingers stroking across it slowly. I reached up to touch his hand, feeling the bump under our fingers as they entwined, and breathed out with a low sigh of contentment. I could... be active later. Yes.

"There are many things I do not like. This-" Legolas shifted up, quickly, and I felt him slowly ease my feet out of the shoes I'd put on hours ago, "-is not one of them. Until summer is over it remains an important part of our life."

"No arguments there, Leggy." I agreed. I opened one eye as the bed tipped and danced, expecting to see him undressing or something, but all he was doing was tugging his own shoes off with his shirt, and dropping them some distance away. A quick check of the phone. No messages. I supposed that was good news. If something bad was happening then there'd be a missed call. Right?

Legolas crawled back onto the bed and lay down on his stomach beside me, shirtless, head resting on his arms. Exhaustion was all over his face like I'd never seen before. Was this because he was so much older now? Perhaps. I reached down to stroke the soft hair off his back, twisting carefully onto my side, and was amused when Legolas suddenly sat up and offered me a big pillow to put between my legs.

"I bought it so you may have it while you are pregnant but it may help." He offered, running one hand up my bare leg under the dress, over the bandage that kept my stitched wound safe. Legolas leaned down to kiss my hip slowly. Still no lust. Only tiredness.

"Thanks."

Legolas flopped back down beside me, breathing out, and murmured softly, "I must nap, even if you cannot, for I am very tired."

"Okay."

To my amazement... he was asleep within minutes. I watched him fall asleep, stroking his hair and back slowly, anxiety and stress falling away from his face. I hadn't realised how tense he'd been. Poor tired old Elf.

...but, now that I was here, and the air conditioning was sending delightful shivers of air across my bare legs, I had to admit. A nap was a _wonderful_ idea.

I shut my eyes, snuggling into the light green sheets, and breathed out slowly. Home. As new as it was... yeah. It felt like home. I could deal with everything later. After a nice peaceful nap.

A/N Thanks for reading. Hope everyone's Christmas break was good!


	33. Home

I woke and …

Everything was okay.

It was strange. From the moment I woke up, the smell of a salad drifting across from a plate Legolas had left sitting beside me on a bedside table, I felt that sense of being 'home'. That _relief_. Maybe it was the bed- that smelt so much like Legolas- or it was the simple way the bedroom had been designed. Nothing was over the top or fancy, the bed frame almost natural wood, smoothened but still in the organic shape it must have grown in. The curtains must have been cotton or something soft, the sheets and bedding this kind of slightly rough silk that had been dyed a natural light green that varied in intensity across the bed. Marbled, maybe?

There was a small table in the corner with a couple of chairs, a lantern sitting on it that clearly was used from the blackened metal top, a bookshelf above the table with various old and new books, a chest of drawers and a full length mirror that had some kind of gauzy fabric curtaining it and softening the corner it stood in.

Beside the bed I noticed my crutches and got up slowly to explore further. In one corner I noticed another door, a simple sliding door, and when opened I found myself gazing down a long walk in wardrobe. Half empty, hangers waiting, and my suitcase sitting patiently underneath. The other half had his clothing already hung up, his suitcase opened and half empty underneath the hangers, his shoes dumped on a boot rack.

Wow. It was one half his. One half mine. It was the first time I'd actually shared a room and a space with another person like this.

"I have not unpacked for you." His voice came from behind me. I leaned against Legolas, who was clearly happy with this idea, his arms sliding under mine and supporting me. "Would you like me to?"

"I … I think I might need a little help." Considering how easy it was to balance on crutches. "Do you mind if I keep exploring while you do this?"

"No." Legolas was already bending over, pulling things out, and hanging them up. To my amusement he was back in tunic and leggings, almost a perfect match of his younger self, except for the faint lines and clear aging on his face. I wondered why he had that- why ANY Elf showed aging signs of they were 'immortal'.

No time to ask. I moved past him, carefully, and found myself in a little bathroom. One light in here and that was it. Not even a power point. I checked my phone again. This time there were several, which caused my heart to jump, but almost all of them were from Brian. Jess, apologies, all kinds of stupid stuff. Two from Cele- one telling me '_He's still drooling/no change'_ and the other was '_want me to hit brian_?'. I texted back a quick No at that... I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I wasn't going to tell someone, even if he was my 'son', to smack him.

Exploring the house further I found that most of it was free of modern things. The living room, with the walls covered in artwork and carvings, didn't even have a TV. The kitchen had electronics, a fridge, a gas stove, and everything except for the fridge was turned off. A sliding door that had been left half open showed how most of the lighting happened- there were neat rows of solar powered lamps and a little note that read, 'All charged.'. At least the toilet had a normal light and a normal flushing thing. I had to admit that was one thing I wasn't interested in... fumbling with pretend toilets and stupid fake lights at three in the morning.

There was even a library of sorts, at the other end of the house, with its own little enclosed balcony and entrance. To my amazement most of the books weren't even in English. There was an entire bookcase dedicated to what I had to guess was Elvish. A row dedicated to Dwarven and a few other languages, I had to guess, though for all I knew it could have been some other ancient language. Atlantian? There was even a closet, several degrees cooler than the library, with some pretty fragile and old looking books arranged carefully under glass lids. I bet an Archaeologist would have wet themselves with delight at some of the books here. I gazed inside with wonder as Legolas came in, looking to him, and he smiled as he leaned against the wall.

"Many of the Elves that live here come to use the library. They will give us some warning until you are used to them."

"Cool." So we wouldn't be walked in on, having naked fun time, by one of the youthful Elves? Good. I watched as Legolas moved across to carefully close books and put them away. "Are they sorted? Can I read them..." Without messing up his careful order.

"Yes. It is easy." Legolas pointed at the spine of the books. "There are little stickers on the spine of each. Colours go together. Read what you like."

I nodded and moved past him to the covered balcony outside. There were old couches out here, faded, a little tired looking but very comfortable. Half burnt candles hung from candle holders that were bolted to the roof of the covered porch. A magazine that claimed I could loose ten kilograms in ten weeks. Classic. Did Elves really stress about that too? Or was that also a sign that my son had been around?

When I lifted the magazine I found the answer. A note slipped out ,complete with a little hand drawn map, my name and a line starting from the door in the kitchen. Legolas had already turned around and gone inside.

Moving inside, I went into the kitchen and followed the little arrow back out into the backyard. There was a path that vanished into the trees, a little slippery, but I followed it anyway. It was a good ten minute walk up a slope before I found myself at another building. This one looked much newer and was a contemporary style, practically a box shape with big glass windows, and … a satellite dish.

When I opened the door I found myself in modern heaven. Electric lights. A stereo in the corner. A TV and surround sound speakers. Several computers and a laptop. A tiny kitchenette and fully electric bathroom. Even a cupboard that had the words 'gaming systems' on the door.

"Hey, mum!"

I jumped as the voice came from one of the computers. Going in slowly, suspicious, I found myself face to face with a very amused looking Cele. "Are you a recording?"

"Nope. See?" He grinned and twisted the image. Suddenly I was seeing Boromir. My legs went weak, suddenly, as I caught the reality of what I was seeing. Boromir looked awful. His face was drained of blood, a machine breathing for him again, eyes shut and his breathing slow. Bandages were all over his head.

"He might not look pretty now but you don't need to be worried." Cele's voice, ever cheerful, came across as he turned the image back to me. "I figured you'd be home soon so set the motion alarms to let me know when you came close to the shed. Like?"

"Um." I wasn't sure what to make of this. "You know. You're not anything as half-elf as I expected." Somehow I'd pictured my baby growing up to be like Lord Elrond. Kind of stiff and inhuman. My statement made Cele grin wider.

"I was raised here. In these times. Well, in Middle Earth as well, but my culture is as much from Australia as it is there. A number of the Elves in the community are young enough to still need the comforts of this world. You can use anything you like and play things loud. It's soundproof, no one around will be bothered, and the couch folds out into a bed. Father's home is a little... old fashioned. There's some students who will be here every Sunday and it's agreed no one plays games then, but other than that, you're free to use it as you want."

Just a little. When I smiled he relaxed. "So enjoy it. Father rarely goes near it but he may for you."

"Thanks."

The image was gone again suddenly. I had this image of Legolas trying to play the Xbox or something. Nope. That didn't make any sense to me.

I moved to rest on the couch, breathing out slowly, my mind once again blown by the whole 'your son is an adult AND growing inside you' thing. Only when I heard Legolas coming did I bother to budge.

He peered in, clearly reluctant to even enter, and his shoulders relaxed as he saw me slowly and awkwardly readjusting myself on top of the crutches. "You found the haven."

"Haven for who though."

"Any Elf born within the last two hundred years, our son the only exception."

Oh. That was interesting. Not … so interesting as Legolas himself. He leaned against the doorway as I came out, a relaxed smile on my face, a bag over one shoulder and … leggings on.

Only _leggings_. I gazed down, transfixed, because from the … from the shape of everything, I suspected he hadn't worn anything else. Not underwear. Not ...socks. Bare feet. Leggings. Tight ones. And underneath...

I wanted to touch it. No. I wanted to rip them off and eat him up.

When he shifted forward, the thigh muscles clearly flexing, I gazed up, and caught it in his face. Same hunger. It flared up in a space of five seconds, when all I'd done was look. He must have known what I … what I was thinking.

Legolas none-too-gently grasped my arms and pushed me against the wall of the 'shed', his breathing faster, dropping the bag. We stared at each other, my cheeks flushing with color at his intense stare, lost for words, our faces inches apart all of a sudden. One of his legs slid up the inside of mine, slowly, the leggings so thin that I could feel the muscles under them flex as he moved closer.

"Hi."

"My love." Legolas kissed me, so slow and tender, his hands sliding up my arms to cup my face.

Legs went weak, crutches propping me up, as time vanished. We didn't hold back this time. The kiss lasted a long time, gentle at first, and steadily grew in intensity as the heat of the day sent sweat beading down my body and adding to the warmth there.

When I tried to offer a leg, it didn't work, my bad thigh didn't want to flex that much. Legolas released me and gazed down, kneeling, sliding my dress up my leg as he pressed kisses against the bare skin and skipping over the edge of the bandage.

"He... hey, what-"

"You have something to lean on." He didn't even hesitate, slowly moving up and vanishing, I felt his lips grazing my sensitive skin slowly and teasing me as he found what he was looking for. I groaned as he started to tease me, over and over, dependant on the crutches now as my legs couldn't support me.

Not while he was doing _that_.

"I can't stand forever!" My squeak got his attention, voice breaking as I felt his tongue stroke right up my body, hands clenching around the crutches hard at _that_. Oh my god. I'd never wanted to throw someone down and ride them like a wild woman like I wanted to right _now_. "Leggy-"

He leaned up suddenly, standing, kissing me hard, and I was lifted up into his arms. The back pack was back, somehow, and Legolas grinned as he abandoned the crutches once more. "Wait."

"Fuck you, I don't want to wait and there's no way-"

He cut me off with another kiss, a quick hard one, and started to jog towards somewhere into the bush. Bush? What about air conditioning? ...no, wait, I didn't care. I kissed the side of his face, his neck, his shoulder, his bare chest, whatever I could reach, delighting in the effect it had on him. His step would falter, or his nostrils would flare with a sharp inhale, the obvious arousal no longer easily contained underneath the tight leggings.

He dropped the bag, as we went around a gate, and then... we were falling.

With a giant SPLASH we fell into something, water closing in over our heads, soaking me to the bone. I surfaced, spluttering, Legolas pulling me against him. A pool. A tiled pool carved into the side of a river? Legolas laughed. His feet brushed the ground, mine didn't, and he pushed me against the side of the pool, kissing my neck again and again.

"It will be easier for your injury if there is no weight." He explained, breathless, one hand unzipping my dress and the other pulling it down my body and away into the water. "It is cooler here."

It was, the water was so amazingly cool and refreshing compared to the heat outside, and I leaned against the edge of the pool as Legolas drifted back. I watched him undress, slow satisfaction and heat at the sight of him building in my own hips, and opened my arms as he came sliding slowly back through the water. I embraced him against me, arms around his head as he tugged off my bra, kissing him again and again.

"I love you." It was so true too. I was confused, yes, confused at how I'd forgotten this. I released him, tugging my own panties off with a wriggle and another dunk underwater, and slid my good leg around him. No preparation needed- Legolas was ready. He had been ready for a long time. I drew his hips against mine, our bodies reconnecting in the water, his arms coming around me to hold me tight against his.

"I love you." He shuddered, shutting his eyes, this incredible flood of relief suddenly crossing his face where there was usually just a mild hint of something. Had he been expecting, even now, for the possibility that I might reject him? My arms wrapped around him, holding him against me, embracing him with every part of my body.

We didn't move for a few minutes, I didn't want to, and I didn't think he did... it was this sense of peace, of triumphant peace, having him there... inside me, feeling his body once again connected to mine, and every twitch, every vibration as his heart sent blood to where we were connected, creating a throbbing sense that I couldn't miss.

When he moved, it was slow, deliberate, his eyes locked in mine, our bodies drifting back until we felt the tiled wall of the pool behind us. Legolas shuddered, control slipping, as did mine.

"If I hurt you-" He breathed against my lips, "-slow me."

"Ditto."

We bumped against each other, our eagerness making for a rhythm that didn't quite match, and Legolas laughed, guiding me as he started to claim me, again and again, pinning me between the wall and his body, our breathing becoming ragged and bodies producing sounds that probably made every animal in the area run for their life, our bodies grinding against each other with increasing need and lust.

My own orgasm came fast, then another, as he didn't seem willing or able to give in just yet, time fading as he kept finding ways to pleasure me, over and over, until finally I was so limp with pleasure that Legolas was holding me against him. I felt his body finally release, a minute after another orgasm of my own.

His legs gave way and we sunk into the water, arms still around each other, the taste of water adding to his kiss as he kissed me underwater with a slow gentle kiss until my lungs begged for air.

We surfaced, quickly, panting for air and laughing, Legolas floating and pulling me close. We lay there in the sun, floating in the water, bodies slipping and sliding against each other, the sun hot against my skin. The pleasure lingered a long time, aided by his slow stroke of fingers across my bare skin, my body weightless in the water with his help. Legolas slid down to sit against something... a platform in the water... and I lay across it.

"You waited for me." I breathed out, slowly, gazing up at him. Water was on his eyelashes, to my amusement, and I reached up to brush it away. "All this time?"

"Yes."

I shut my eyes, leaning against him, and tried to not cry. Crying seemed like a great choice suddenly. It had to be the hormones, of course, but I just … wanted to cry big fat tears. This was not helped when I felt his hand slide over my growing stomach, over the life he'd created so long ago, cupping the little growth there.

"When you return to Middle Earth, to me, you must take as much fruit as can be carried. I remember you enjoyed it."

Yes, that was right. To his younger self. "You don't mind..."

"I am myself, now, or then." Legolas responded. He shifted up slowly to stand beside me, as I floated, and I felt no embarrassment as he gazed down at my naked body in the sunlight. He was running his fingers across old and new scars, his silver-blonde hair darker and golden while wet, his own ancient scars a silvery hue that barely showed up. "I would feel hurt if you did not love me and rejected me, as a young Elf or as an ancient one."

"I don't care about your age."

"I know."

I gazed around- one of his hands was holding my head up in the water- trusting him as he ran his fingers across my body slowly. The pool was, like I'd noticed at first glimpse, literally carved into the land beside the river, and tiled with pale brown and green tiles. There were carvings though. A stone turtle, resting on the edge of one part of the pool. A carving of a woman holding a basin, water flowing out of it into the pool, so much like Lothlorien. The trees seemed healthy, vibrant, and bushes flowered all around the pool and river, so very alive. I saw a tree beside the river, the branches so heavy with bright orange mangos, that the tips of the leaves were brushing across the surface of the water.

It could have been anywhere. There was no sign of people, aside from the carvings and the tiles, it could have been some ancient pool long forgotten. River water flooded into it and then cleaned it as it carried water back out again and downstream.

"It's so beautiful."

"We treasure the river." Legolas responded, gazing up, breathing out slowly. Contentment was all over his face as he gazed out. "We are guardians of the land, not owners, and so we offer the land as much compassion as we would to our own family."

"And carve everything?"

"If we find a stone we like, yes. You would find many carvings through the bushlands of this property." Legolas reached out to touch the turtle, which I only now realised was attached to a much larger rock that was still half buried under the ground, as if someone had just taken the tip of a rock and turned it into something else.

"It's a beautiful home."

"Cele will like growing up here." I muttered, fingers going across my stomach, reminding myself that he wasn't yet born. Not yet.

"Cere." Legolas laughed, reaching down to stroke my face as embarrassment flooded it, and added, "Do not feel embarrassed. You would often call him Cele instead of Cere."

"Yeah." Oh man. I repeated it in my head. Cere. Cere. Cere. Right. Cel... Cere.

"Let's return home. I will cook, you relax, and we will call him for news."

That night, while he cooked, I slowly unpacked my things. Not just my bag- all my things had been brought out and I wandered through the house with my belongings, slowly placing them here and there, surprised by how comfortable I was to do this. Mix my things with Legoals' things. Boxes were empty and strewn across the house, I had to kick them around anyway, as I placed objects in places, books in the library downstairs and in the bedroom, set up a little study upstairs in a room Legolas had reserved for me with my laptop and desktop fan, and ...settled in. By the time we'd fnished dinner it felt as much my home as his. Did it always feel so fast, that sense of 'This is my home?', or was … something special about it?

I wasn't sure. But the moment I'd gotten the last of my photos out and on the walls in the hallway downstairs, beside Legolas and Cere's photos and Mum's collection of her own mothers cookbooks, jewellery and photographs were put away in my little study on the empty shelves waiting there, I felt it. After dessert all the weight and exhaustion fell onto me. I shut down.

After that, all thoughts of activity vanished, all plans and expectations of visiting the frequently. Here was another world, almost literally with Legolas, and my body just decided for the both of us what it wanted. And it wanted to shut down. I couldn't lie to myself any more. I suddenly noticed how the crutches rubbed against my armpits- made worse by the strapless dresses that were most comfortable in summer's humid end. Noticed the ache in my thigh like never before. It was as if my body was shutting down, adrenaline fading, and I just … didn't want to move.

That didn't mean I didn't stalk Boromir's progress obsessively. And it was usually the same. 'Day 4. Drooling.' Day five. Drooling. Twice a day updates that barely changed. It was good news though- his medically induced coma was doing what it was supposed to do, his brain was recovering, and his body was healing. He'd gained colour back in his face slowly day by day. Cere swore, once, that when he'd held a hamburger under Boromir's nose that Boromir had almost woken. Defying medically induced coma for food? I could almost see Boromir trying.

Legolas didn't seem that surprised or annoyed by my sudden need to be lazy. I spent most of the time in the house where the air conditioning was, while Legolas came and went, doing things with the land at his own pace. He'd come home, we'd cook together, and fall into bed to embrace each other. Legolas almost always slept at night now. Another quirk of being old, I supposed, or perhaps he knew how much I liked it... to have him beside me all night. Some nights he'd get up and vanish again, to gaze out from the balcony, or read a book downstairs.

I knew that I would be returning to Middle Earth soon. I wanted to. The urgency may have lessened, my instincts demanding that I rest, but it didn't leave. I felt like I was still half there, even waking sometimes and expecting to see it, and had already started to list what I'd take back with me. Already had my phone ready.

Legolas didn't speak about it but I would catch him, catch him glancing at a specific bag as if he recognised it, or trying to feed me as much organic fruit and vegetables as he could manage, as if somehow Minas Tirith wasn't good enough. Without speaking to each other about it, that suitcase started to slowly fill up with things, clothing, pregnancy nutrients, and soap.

The other residents of the land only showed themselves after a week. They came, with food, with instruments, some dressed in modern clothing, some in more traditional gowns and tunics. Elves. But not life as I knew it. These Elves resembled hippies, more than Elves I remembered, with the aura of 'otherworldly creature' that all Elves seemed to have. They showed up almost exactly a week since we'd arrived, twenty of them, drums under arms, harp, guitar, food, incense, and crowded into our home.

Seconds after they'd settled, food was handed out, instruments came out, and music filled the house. I swore they reminded me of something, though I couldn't quite figure out what until they started to sing a more modern song, and realised exactly what they reminded me of. That band- 'Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros'. They were so much like them that I had to actually sneak out my phone and double check. Was that what modern Elves were like? ...Hippies? I supposed that couldn't be THAT surprising. It was probably a culture they were much more comfortable with than, say, gothic culture.

These Elves seemed surprisingly more relaxed though with me, less shocked or bothered by the whole Elf-Human relationship, and seemed more able to let me into the club. I relaxed so fast there that it was almost hard to believe they WERE Elves, except for the frequent Elvish that scattered the room, and even found myself sitting there as one of the female Elves sat between my legs and sang to my stomach while another braided my hair.

It was a little, strange, perhaps, but touching. It was worth it to see Legolas' face as it happened. He stood there, arms crossing and uncrossing, like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing all of a sudden.

After that, they'd come and go frequently, and it made things more interesting for sure. I'd come downstairs and often find an Elf, stretched out with a book, as at home here as I was. And somehow I didn't mind.

The weeks drifted by, one after another, and finally...

It was time for Boromir to wake.

When I came to the car I found Legolas there, with that bag we'd both been eying, the bag I'd been packing for the trip. He met my eyes as he lifted it into the boot of the car.

"Just in case." He said quietly, glancing down at it, "I packed it according to your list."

"My list?" Oh yeah. The one I'd been half-heartedly adding to. My heart sunk as I kept my eyes in his for a long time, reaching out to touch his hands, and Legolas squeezed them with a sad smile. "Today?"

"I think I remember it being so. After this, you've changed it again, but-" He sighed and bent down to lift a second suitcase. "-I have prepared. There are seeds. Grow a garden."

"Um. Isn't that a bad idea?" I watched him lift the second box into the back of the car. "Altering the future?"

"I don't care. I want you and our son to be well fed. Plant these seeds and grow a garden." Legolas frowned, faint, his eyes going down to my stomach. "I do not know the future of Minas Tirith, I was not there often, and I do not know the future of Middle Earth, do you?"

"Well... not exactly. Except that there's some babies."

"Then plant a garden." Legolas closed the boot. Reckless. Couldn't say I didn't like this side of him but...

Legolas drove on the country streets for several hours, slowly, anxious the entire way, clearly uncertain about what he was doing. Cere... or Cele... I was confused again... met us at the very outskirts of the city, at the furthest train station out, some place called Caboolture. This time with him driving, we made it pretty fast.

"Have you talked to Brian yet?" Cere asked me from the driver's seat, before glancing back at Legolas, an amused smile crossing his face. "Hang in there."

Legolas barely looked up. He'd shut his eyes the second we'd gotten onto the highway.

"No. He's texted me a few times." A few was an understatement. Twice a day maybe. I only paid attention to news about Boromir. "Why, he's contacted you?"

"We've talked." Cere went quiet as a truck passed us on the highway. Unlike Legolas he was at ease, even enjoying the speed, his long hair tied back with the strands tucked behind his visibly pointed ears. He may have seemed young on the phone but in person, he still looked at least thirty, perhaps a little older. There was even faint lines. He had more wrinkles than I did. But when he grinned, it was like it outshone the signs of aging, it made him look ten years younger.

I still struggled to view him as my baby. Still couldn't quite connect grown half-Elf to the little life in my stomach. He was closer to 'that cousin' I'd only met a few times, or a nephew, an uncle, or something like that. Still... I liked him. It was weird but true. The bond was instantly there.

"Here." He said, suddenly, reaching for a bag he'd brought with him. Cere nudged it to me. "The first of my presents for you."

"Presents?" That was right. Legolas had mentioned this. I opened the bag and found a little wooden box waiting for me. It was carved and with some kind of ornate golden latch.

"It's from ancient Egypt. Had it made for you. The box had to be repaired recently but the rest has lasted pretty well."

What! I stared at him, then at the box, and carefully undid the latch. I had heen expecting some kind of jewellery and found myself instead gingerly unwrapping a heavy black cat up. It was about the size of my hand, a heavy metal with dark blue eyes that glittered with gold and gold 'strings' around the neck. There was an inscription down a little tablet against the cat's chest and it was attached to a heavy stone base that was covered in Egyptian hieroglyphs. But on top of that... our nicknames as well. Wendy, Leggy, and Cere.

I didn't know what to say. The cat was ancient. It seriously was. It kind of brought home how long ago

"Bast. Goddess of cats. Museums would kill for something like this. Modern English on an ancient carving! They'll either pretend it doesn't exist, claim it's a fake, or spend years debating it." Cere seemed pretty amused by my silence. "You don't like?"

"It's amazing! But-" But holy cow. "How old is it?"

"Ancient Egypt. Pharaoh Khafra of the Fourth Dynasty. I went to see the beginnings of the Sphinx but found it was already half built."

"You went?" Seriously? He was tanned but very white, blonde, clearly not Egyptian. "Like that?"

"Couldn't resist. Traders weren't uncommon. I found my way there, from Atlantis, and explored for several years while father slept."

"His curiosity has always been a source of confusion amongst our kin." Legolas muttered from the back. "Or daring. I woke to find that he had been gone fifty years."

"I was home barely ten years after you woke, father, and thanks." His trademark grin flashed at his father in the rear view mirror. "You did not mind my stories when I returned."

I carefully wrapped the statue back up in the cloth it'd been wrapped in. I could picture it somehow- Cere, in ancient … what, Egyptian linen, on a boat that was going up the Nile, that big grin of his.

"You've seen a lot."

"After learning about it, how could I not explore the world when given the chance? The Silk Road. That was exciting."

"Dangerous too." Legolas muttered. I glanced back to catch a glint of something not unlike pride in his face though. He met my eyes and I saw it increase slightly. "But he has your heart. I could not ask for less."

"I could." Cere muttered. "Hang on."

Suddenly we were crossing lanes, Legolas groaning in the back seat, and … straight into a service station with a Hungry Jacks. Cere winked at me and swung the car, still moving pretty fast, easily into the drive through and stopped quickly beside the box. As soon as a woman, someone called Stacy spoke, he started. "Gday, Stacy. Get ready for this. Ready? Good. Three vegetarian meals, but with onion rings instead of chips, three of those farm salad things, a kid's meal with a vegetarian burger, one Aussie burger, and two ultimate double whoppers, as well, as a sundae. Remember- no chips, only onion rings. What kid's meal? The one with chicken nuggets, I think. Yeah. The drinks- all orange juice. Cool."

I stared at him. He ignored me, Legolas, just drove on in casually, tugging his wallet out.

Cere only spoke when a massive group of brown paper bags joined Legoas in the back seat and we were back on the highway, the smell of food wafting out, a sundae suddenly in my hands. "Boromir will be hungry and I know I am. The chicken nuggets and onion rings are for the others in his ward. Father, can you put that food in the thermal bag carefully? The vegetarian meals are for us."

"Um. Thanks."

He nodded and focused on the road once more as the traffic started to get heavier closer to Brisbane.

The food teased me right into the hospital. I wondered how no one smelt it. Did nerves with pregnancy equal super sniffing ability? This might have been useful in battle or something but not now. I waited for them to let us into see Boromir, waited for the lift, waited even as we walked, and my nose and anxiety kept urging me to lunge for the bag and get eating. The surprise that he wasn't in a mixed person ward, like in movies, went over my head. Who cared why or how he'd gotten a single room?

The second we were inside Boromir snapped to attention.

"You been back to Minas Tirith yet, woman?" Boromir grabbed for my hand, dragging me close, trying to sit up. He looked really woozy and his eyes kept crossing, as if he was having trouble keeping them focused, a bandage on his scalp. He only relaxed when I sat on the chair beside him.

"No, I was waiting..."

"I'm not coming. What are you waiting for? Go home and get me some new clothing." He didn't seem that annoyed though, or even upset with me, and even with the tubes in his arms and the hospital gown, Boromir seemed to be the same as ever. Better, even, much more cheerful. He grabbed for something beside him and held it up. My stomach churned at the sight of it. Some kind of tiny … fleshy thing. In the shape of a ring. "May I present to you- the power of the ring."

Okay. That was both gross and creepy. I stared at the tumour, so small, but it was a very distinctive ring shape. "Why did you keep it?"

"To remind myself of my promice." Boromir's smile faded slowly as his eyes went over myself and Legolas, who had come up beside me, adding, "To both of you. Go home and tell Faramir."

We went quiet, as Cere slid the curtain around the bed, Boromir, myself and Legolas exchanging glances.

The thing was... he was right.

We all knew it.

Legolas moved closer, his arm brushing mine, and there was this faint sigh from him.

"I know." Strength left my voice as I said it. I sat there, suddenly, thinking over the feelings I'd had since … since Boromir's operation. Being half here and half there. It was strange, as if mentally I was already in that room in Minas Tirth, in that room where Faramir had last seen Boromir badly wounded and where time had more or less stopped.

"But first-" Cere suggested, softly, as he came to Boromir's other side. "First. We should eat and watch this."

"What?"

Cere held up a box. The Fellowship of the Ring?

I ended up remaining in one of the only chairs, the tiny hospital room having not that much in the way of choice, as a portable DVD player was brought out. Boromir was up, which seemed to be more of an effort than he'd expected, sitting straight up with pillows giving him 'cushions'. I suspected it was closer to needing help to remain upright. Movie on, food out, Cere vanishing a moment to distribute food somewhere else. Nurse bribes? Maybe. We lasted for half the movie, which was lucky given that we'd already watched half before the hospital before having to return to a hotal waiting.

For three days that was what we did. Boromir. Movies. One after another, in that tiny room, until finally after three days we'd finished them all. I sat there as we watched Aragorn get crowned, feeling myself already half gone from this place already, and when I reached down to quietly lift up the bags that had been waiting for me- the bag I'd packed, the bag Legolas had packed for me, and a backpack, I saw it in his face. He knew. I knew. Once the credits of Return of the King were rolling, I heard Legolas sigh softly. Boromir didn't seem to know. I said goodbye quietly, he was too sleepy to do more than wave his hand and flop, as we left the room. Cere had him. I wasn't worried about him.

We didn't really speak in the car. I'd expected to go back to the hotel but we didn't. Instead, we drove all the way back to the land Legolas had built on, Legolas didn't even seem bothered by the highway for once, making it back to the land in record time just as the sun was sinking down.

Neither of us spoke during the drive but as Legolas helped me get out, he stared down at me, face paler than usual.

"You have to go." Not a question. It was clear fact.

"Yeah." I sighed, somehow feeling … bad... even though this was something we knew was going to happen. And I didn't MIND it. I had Legolas waiting, I had an agreement to come and go every three months.

"Do you wish to do it here or at home?"

"At home." The answer was instant. Even though it meant hours in driving to get there, even though it'd delay it, I knew it was right. I wanted to leave THIS Legolas in the one place we both felt relaxed and secure. Come back to him in that place.

Legolas nodded.

The drive was long and tense. Night came, as we drove, as we wove and danced through the back streets and the long old country roads that Legolas preferred, the stars appearing between long dark clouds that blew across the sky frequently. I dozed on and off, as Legolas' music played, my mind with Legolas.

My anxiety grew. My sense of 'leaving' grew. And Legolas didn't let go of my hand a moment, even as he drove, even as he struggled with his own anxiety over driving.

I didn't know how late it was when we got back to the property. One, two, four in the morning? There were distant lights from the 'technology cottage' where I assumed some of the Elves in the community must have been working. There was a lamp in the living room that had been left on, I could see it through the window, and yet I knew I wasn't going back in that house.

"It is time then." He muttered. Hadn't he said said something similar? Legolas started to offer bags to me. Held them out. Carefully arranged them around the crutches. He made a suitcase, a backpack and a box of seeds far more complex than they seemed, the way he fussed, tugged and arranged, constantly brushing his hand across the swollen stomach I knew was always on his mind.

"Wait a second." I muttered, shifting the box of seeds under one arm and grasping the shirt arm that was closest, and tugged Legolas closer. Leggy. Old man. Elf, really, Old Elf. What was wrong? Why did I feel so tense and anxious all of a sudden? I let go of the suitcase handle a moment. "Wait."

I knew what this anxiety was. I really did. And as he paused and turned to face me, the question lingered at the back of my head, the question rose. It'd been one I'd been avoiding for the weeks I'd been here. One question, really, but one pregnant with multiple meanings. One that asked for many answers.

"Are you sure that you'll be ... fine?" Fine with the intimacy with THIS Legolas, with the length of time I'd be apart from young-Legolas, or with older-Legolas being older...

He sighed when I asked. Legolas gazed down, and for once his height didn't provide any kind of comfort or attraction. For once the distance between his chest, which was level with my eyes, and his own face... it seemed to be eternal. It took me a while to finally meet his eyes. He had a faint frown as our eyes met.

"You are asking about when you return to Minas Tirith and to my younger self." Not even a question. "I will not be jealous. I will be ...beside you."

"That's crazy though. It's another you!" The anxiety burst out. It WAS crazy. I was sleeping, loving, married to two different versions of the same Elf. Right? "I'll be calling you on the phone and you'll be there in the background. Like a clone. It's weird! How can you be fine with that? You or ... or other you!"

"I am. I feel peace with it. It is not a stranger. It is a person I trust intimatly." Legolas backed up to lean against the edge of the car. It should have looked weird, really, but somehow he seemed at ease in this world when not forced to interact with it too much. His arms crossed, clothing modern, hair tired back and his pointy ears the only real clear sign that he was really the same Elf. He reached out to grasp my hands. "You chose to love me."

"I did. And..."

"By loving me here, in your world, and in the past... you love me. Yes?" When I nodded, Legolas squeezed my hands, and bent down to kiss the back of each one. "Yes. And I love you. Now and then. Explain this to me, back then, and that I am here to take care of you here and now. I am two beings for you. Youth and ancient. It must be strange." Legolas smiled gently as his fingers stroked my hands. "I must have seemed ancient back when we were in the Fellowship."

"You were. But now you're even older. With so many things I don't know." The honest truth was that I was still stressed out. Instinctively, I knew, I FELT that this Elf was my life partner. That didn't change the fact that I barely knew much about him. "It's weird. Like two husbands."

Legolas nodded faintly. "Time will change that. Do you feel I am different from then?"

Honestly... no. Tireder, older, both obvious with the aging in his face and the lines of grey in his silvery blonde hair. But he felt the same. "Not really. Except for the amount I don't know about you. You, now, have so much more I don't know."

"More time we will share. We have years. Decades. Our lives will slow, our time will calm, and we will grow as any other pair of lovers. In both times I will teach you my language, take you to the home of my people, and spend days with only you for company. Hunt with you. Dance with you. Ride with you. Make love to you for hours. All the things that the War of the Ring did not allow."

I supposed he had a point there. I relaxed on the crutches at that. The 'war of the ring', however exciting, really hadn't given us much time to get to know each other. It was like one long endless teaser of hormones and feelings between bashing and stuff.

"I guess I'm rushing it. You know. I'm pregnant now." I muttered. "Seems like we did the baby part before the normal couple part."

"We did many things in the wrong order, this is true, for an Elf would not even marry before two years of courting." Legolas' smile widened slightly. "In times of war this such thing happens and it takes time, once peace has come, for the couple to find peace as well. This is why it is so important for you to return to Minas Tirith with our child. Allow me the time to grow with you. Come home to me, in this time, and give me that same chance. We have time now."

"Yeah. We do." I relaxed a little. "And you're sure that when I say 'Hey Leggy, I'm with your older self too...' you won't..."

"I will ask you questions to prove this. I will demand to talk to myself upon this phone. It will take a few days to believe it." Legolas responded instantly. He bent down to pick up the suitcase, which had tipped on its side, and pressed it gently into my free hand. "Trust me."

"I do. Both of you."

It was funny how those words seemed to be the tipping point for the change. As if Galadriel was waiting, or watching, or sensed something in me. Because I did trust him and I did feel slighty better. First I had to tell him what had happened. Sleep. I was already to sleep.

With those words, I felt the strange sense of movement, the … folding. Worlds changed. Energy flooded around me. Legolas-from-my world vanished.

I returned.

Minas Tirith. The smell hit me first. The smell, which was so clear and obvious compared to the fresh clean land that came with 'my world', was muskier. I felt the bed under me, smelt the unwashed bodies around us, Boromir's men. Faramir. Legolas. Sweat. Faint scent of waste coming from the streets outside. Felt the sticky fresh-blood feeling sink uncomfortably under my bare legs as I tipped back onto the hard mat with a painful flop.

And yet it was almost like returning to another kind of reality. Almost like a dream ended. My world, with modern things, with Boromir, with old-Legolas... it vanished too.

It was just seconds after we'd left this bed, after Boromir had panicked, and Legolas was still bent forward where I'd grabbed for him. He was standing up.

Then the noise, drama and emotion of the situation that I'd left hit me in one wave.

"Where has Boromir vanished to!"

"Wenduin!"

"What!"

Other exclamations of shock, surprise and even fear flooded me. The soldiers that had come for Boromir's sake were loudest, perhaps not used to any kind of magical shenanigans of any kind, and I saw several actually check under the bed.

I dropped the box of packaged seeds as their reaction, all noise and motion and drama, hit me hard like a big wave of terror. Suitcase tipped one way. Backpack weighted me back. Faramir grasped my arms long enough to shake me in a way that was probably harsher than he intended with, "Boromir?"

"What? He's not here."

Legolas was fast to grasp Faramir's hands and detatch them, to free me from the straps of the backpack, his puzzled frown only giving them a momentarily glance... he lifted me up onto my feet and drew me closer, one hand reaching down for the wound he was searching for, reminding me that when I'd left this place I'd been pretty badly injured myself.

"You are not injured."

The younger Legolas shocked me. Time seemed to slow as our eyes met, as I took in the lack of aging on his face or in his hair, and for the first time since I'd met him... he didn't seem quite so ancient to me. I almost felt 'equal'. Almost.

His quick mind was working under those grey eyes. They'd gone from my face to my stomach, to the clothing that was clearly different, his fingers digging in as he held me upright, a strange kind of calm between the two of us as the chaotic panic swirled around us over Boromir. My heart thudded in my throat, a gentle anxiety rising, and …

"I am not marrying him." I said quietly, softly, voice flooded out by Faramir. Legolas heard it. His sensitive ears understood.

He nodded, a smile coming to his eyes and his lips, and then the moment was broken as Faramir grasped my arm and turned me towards him.

"Please Wendy. What has happened?"

"She is older. Her child has grown." Legolas turned as well, releasing one arm, and he carefully lowered the backpack from my back.

"I don't understand. How?"

"Boromir's... god, how do I even explain it?"

"Where? You … I … my eyes have tricked me, for I saw..." Faramiar stood up once more, curls akew, a picture of confusion and worry that bordered on panic, his love for the brother he'd only just gotten back growing. "What? What have I just seen?"

He looked like he was afraid he was going mad. I tried to speak fast and explain quickly. How would I accept it?

"Elf Magic. Boromir is in the place I came from. He's with healers." I was trying to make it quick and easy, because I was tired suddenly, and I just wanted to hide in a small dark cosy room with Legolas. Sleep. Tell him what had happened. Sleep. See Aragorn. I had this sudden wave and need to see Aragorn, for some reason, and Eowyn, this realisation that I'd missed them. The hobbits. I'd missed all of them. "It's a long story..."

"I would hear the entire thing another time." Faramir didn't seem quite able to take it in. He opened his mouth again to ask, "What … please. Explain once more."

"Some kind of Elf magic. We travelled to my world. Boromir and I... We were taken to healers. Boromir needs more healing with an internal sickness that they found. While we were there... nothing happened here. Time stopped here and moved there."

These people clearly had not watched Doctor Who recently because that last explanation did not help in the slightest. There was an audible pause in the room as I stood there, crutchless, and the good leg I was standing on gave a little protest. I reached for the crutches and arranged them under my armpits. Sighed. Oh yes. They were horrible blister-summoning things but... but it was a relief to be off my good leg.

"You can't walk?" Legolas asked quietly.

"Healers. Fixed it. It's just going to take time."

"Boromir is well?"

"Better than well. Was eating everything he got his hands on."

Faramir was not done. I saw it, saw his mouth open, confusion, but to my great relief Aragorn appeared from the back of the room. Had he just come in or had he been there the whole time? I wasn't sure but at least he seemed to be relaxed.

"She looks tired. And there is clearly no panic. There is no bleeding injury. Her color is back. She would not lie about Boromir's wellbeing." He said. It was very soft, the way Aragorn spoke, and yet it held so much weight in the room. As soon as he'd said it, Faramir went quiet and the soldiers seemed to step back or shrink slightly. Farmair turned to them, nodding, and one by one they left the room. Aragorn turned to me when the room was emptied, leaving only myself, Faramir, Legolas and Aragorn, and grasped me in a bear hug that made me all weepy all of a sudden. Crazy hormones. Big wet tears started to roll down my face at his musky smell.

"You are tired, aren't you, little sister?" He said quietly. Aragorn held me there with his big hands on either of my arms.

"I didn't mean to question her word." Faramir stepped back and reached up to run his hand through his hair. "It's a tense day."

Oh. That was right. Today was also the day Eowyn married Faramir. Tomorrow was the day Aragorn was crowned. My mind was slowly returning to Minas Tirith time. I felt something brush across my hand. Legolas' hand. Aragorn remained close to me.

"I promise. Boromir is so well that he's eating like a horse, last I saw him, but he just needed more healing. There was something in his body … a sickness... that was dangerous if they didn't treat it. He was I didn't want to bring up the 'He might stay there for years' part of it. I was tired. Embarrassed that one hug was making crocodile tears run all over my face. I tried to smile at Faramir in what was hopefully a reassuring way. "He really is. I know it's probably been like one second for you guys but for us it was weeks. He's fine. Great."

"Then we need not ask more for the time." Aragorn decided. He straightened. "And this has caused delay enough for you and the Lady Eowyn. We have been given good news."

"Yes, but confusing." Farmair seemed to be a little less relaxed. But at least the mention of Eowyn had snapped his mind back to the moment. "You wouldn't lie. I'm saddened to think he will not be here..."

"I'll take photos." I promiced. Bad idea? Who knew. "I mean... painting. I'll get a painting of it."

Faramir nodded distractidly before he turned to the soldiers who hadn't spoken. "We will have to hurry. Send word that we may be late..."

"Not with my assistance. Legolas, you should take Lady Wenduin, and I will assist Faramir myself in getting ready." Aragorn released my arm. Soldiers vanished. Legolas grasped my shoulder gently. "I will carry these belongings to the chambers."

"Nope. To the house." The 'chambers' just reminded me of something very stupid that I'd done. Legolas might have accepted it but now... now I wasn't going to be able to look at that room without guilt. "The little one with the hobbits."

"Then to the house we go." Legolas agreed.

Legolas helped me downstairs and onto the back of a horse. While he went back inside for the bags, I sat there, breathing in slowly, and surprised at how emotional I felt at being home. Home. It was like being _home_. Women in long dresses, hair covered, carrying or dragging along sleepy babies and kids, getting the water from the wells for the day, the smell of bread just about ready to be bought. A soldier jogging past as he sang to himself some bouncy tune about a maiden... sounded kind of dirty and I was amused to see a woman throw an entire bread loaf at his head with a curse. The sudden gust of wind that carried the smell of flowers. Was it going to rain today? No clouds in the sky.

Gimli appeared and I felt those big wet crocodile tears threaten to come back. Holy cow. I'd missed the dwarf. I'd missed them all so damn much. Screw Brian for a 'friend'. These were people I could depend on with my life. How could you say that about a guy who couldn't even treat his lover right?

"Gimli." I breatehed out.

"Lass. You all right?" He gazed up and I was torn between amusement and joy at seeing him as I caught sight of comb teeth caught in the Dwarf's beard. He'd tried to comb it. Weeks of travelling must have made it knotty as hell. He'd put on some fancy looking robes and armour and his axe looked shiny and sharp. Wedding day clothing included a well cared for weapon? Who knew.

"Good. I mean... I'm good. I am."

"Heard you were injured." Gimli raised an eyebrow as his eyes unashamedlbly stared at my stomach.

I knew it was bigger, noticeable now, but it wasn't that big. I'd have kicked him if I wasn't using my good leg to keep balanced on the horse. "Oi."

"Just wondering what kind of breakfast they gave you. Gave me fruit. Fruit!" He chuffed, as if insulted, and shook his head. "What kind of breakfast is that for a celebration."

"The kind they feed you so that you have room for what's to come at lunch." Legolas responded as he came out. He met my eyes and I felt love, blinding tear jerking love at his face, because he was smiling. Smiling in his face, in his eyes, in his heart, and he had the bags easily under each arm. Maybe he felt it. Felt how much I'd missed him. This him. Young-Elf-Legolas. How long had it been since we'd openly loved one another?

It might have to wait, I tried to remind myself, given that I was expected to marry Boromir today. But someone may have as well tried to tell that river down there to stop flowing for a few hours so that someone could cross it. Now that the floodgates were open it was flowing all over the damn place.

"Can you ride?" Legolas asked softly and I caught his other meaning. Did I want to be carried? I would have happily risked scandal in Minas Tirith to be in his arms for a few hours. Luckily my logic remained intact and I nodded.

Gimli hesitated, eyes going from me to Legolas, and he blinked. Gestured at us as if to shove us away. He wandered inside with a gruff snort and a shake of his head.

"He knows." Legolas said softly but the smile didn't go. It remained.

Legolas knew how I felt too. That was all that mattered.

Legolas assisted me to the small house on the side of Minas Tirith and I sunk onto the bed with a soft groan of relief as soon as we were in a room. Crutches really did rub skin badly under arms.

"You cannot rest long. There is a wedding to go to." He was trying to be tough. Legolas took about three seocnds to drop the bags and flop beside me. He leaned against me, pressing against me, lips finding mine. "I feel the time you have been without me."

"Well... not … exactly."

I tried to explain the other thing. The 'I met you in several thousand years' thing. And like I predicted... Legolas didn't know how to react. He sat up as I started, one hand threading through mine, but his emotions hiding behind a guard.

"I should not know too much..." He muttered, suddenly, cutting me off. "You are sure it is me."

"Without a doubt. You. Older you. And … and I met our son too."

Another freeze. Legolas stared at me, then slowly to my stomach, some of his warmth returning. "Our son."

"I left him here with you. Or I'm going to. And … and he and you … I guess you travelled or something. In twenty years I have to leave."

"I would have you remain with us."

"But I can't. I won't. But I'll be at the other end. And you'll have him." It was all I had to give him and I willingly offered it to Legolas without a single hesitation.

Sitting there, I was vastly aware once again how different things were, the firmness of the bed, the obvious texture of feathers sewn into the blanket, and Legolas. So much younger. With thousands of years. Thousands. I wouldn't leave him for several decades- almost a third of my life- and I'd basically be going straight back to him. Within seconds.

"It's a long time." I muttered.

"I do not see time as you do. Time is... different for us." Legolas responded. He was pulling a chair across and sat on it in front of me, grasping my hands, and he smiled faintly. There was an air of tension about him though. I could see it.

"Do you find it weird that I'm with … you?"

"Weird?"

"Um. Strange. Unusual. ...not normal."

"It is not normal, no." Legolas agreed quietly. "But I confess that to hear that you were born in the Undying Lands, the home of my ancestors, has more of my awe than to hear that I will find you once again."

"I was born on Earth, Leggy, the Undying Lands were... well, it was in the past. Elves aren't exactly ruling the world." I had to admit I was also a bit stunned by that. Earth. Home. Third planet from the sun. Apparently the origin of Elves. Or was it just a world they'd found and adopted?

"Few that are not of Elvish blood are aware that the Undying Lands are not … not upon this land. That it lies beyond the world, beyond time and stars."

"I wonder how humans got there then. Or were Elves the second?"

"I doubt any who are alive would know the answer to this." Legolas responded thoughtfully. "I have heard that there were men, a great distance from the land of my ancestors, but there was no talk of who came first. Perhaps it is not important. You must remember- it has been a great span of time since Elves came to being. Perhaps it was the ideal place for my people to grow and learn in wisdom. The Lady Galadriel may understand more of the time when the Elves came to Middle Earth for she herself came from the Undying Lands. Let me open your packs and place them away safely in chests." Legolas was standing and heading for my suitcases as he spoke the last sentence. He knelt and started to ...prod the zipper.

"You take hold of the metal thing and pull. No... the other way. Yeah. That's it." I smiled faintly at the surprise and pleasure in his face. Oh yeah. This world didn't have _zippers_. "Pull slowly or it snags."

It still blew my mind. Elves. Came into existence in Earth. from _my_ Earth to Middle Earth. And from the sounds of things... Lady Galadriel was one of them. I sat there quietly, picturing Earth, and for the first time in my life I was actually genuinely fascinated about the whole Atlantis myth. About other ancient myths, stories passed down in all those ancient civilisations, about 'master races' or 'master cities. Or whatever it was they called them.

"There's no hobbits or anything though." I said quietly.

It was more to myself than to Legolas but as he was going through my bags, he glanced up, and responded, "Perhaps there was once." He was carefully arranging my clothing for me. Most of it was modern and I knew I'd have to be careful to not wear it around 'sensitive' people...

"None of these would do for the wedding." Legolas muttered. His words surprised me. Twenty minutes... or maybe forty... and I'd already forgotten about Eowyn and Faramir getting married barely down the street. "We must hurry though. You are expected to meet the Lady Eowyn before she is wed, are you not?"

"Oh crap. You're right. That was the plan." The plan... almost a month and a half ago for me. I stepped carefully into the dress and was glad that it was made to be wide- my stomach was larger than the dress had been designed for.

Legolas helped me dress. He'd pause, his hands freezing on my skin as he did, his eyes shutting a moment, his nostrils flaring as if my smell was teasing him. I watched him and when, midway through dressing, I leaned up to kiss him... he sighed and leaned against me, arms dropping the lace he'd been trying to tie, face buried against my neck.

"I told you that I chose you."

"I still feared..." He trailed off and released me, kissing my forehead, before stepping around behind me to tie up the back of the dress. "We must not be late and... and it may be difficult to tell Lord Faramir of your choice"

Yeah. No kidding. 'I chose your brother, then Legolas, then your brother, and …. now Legolas again'. I sighed as he brushed fingers across my shoulder, lips kissing the back of my neck, and felt a small flood of anxiety rise. Tough cookies for me. I'd have to face the music with my indecisiveness. Whatever they thought... I'd have to accept it.

"If you would like me to speak to him-"

"No. It's gotta be me." No question. I'd have LIKED Legolas to do it. That would have been easy and great. But … "When should I?"

"Tonight. During the feast. If Lord Faramir feels anger or frustration then he will be comforted by Lady Eowyn."

"Yeah." I kind of felt like that was a bad time to give him bad news. Right before his wedding night. But... he'd already slept with her. I reached for my crutches as Legolas headed for the door and hobbled after him. I'd just have to trust my feelings, not trip over the long dress that I had NOT missed, and smile. Weddings. We always had to smile for those.

But ...at least I was home. Yep.

* * *

A/N Hello gorgeous people. :)


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